Hailey Brass
by Wiccagirl24
Summary: Her hair is pink, her bellybutton pierced, her music punk. Hailey is loving her new life in Vegas, living with her uncle, Jim Brass, crushing on Greg, making friends with Lindsey Willows. But then one day her world falls apart. WIP GSR, CWR
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or places mentioned in CSI. I do own Hailey, from the tip of her pink hair down to the toes of her Chuck Taylors.

Spoilers: Takes place during season 5, right after DtD. Greg's in the lab sometimes, the team is still together. Anything is fair game.

A/N: This one is for my sister. She _is_ Hailey, living under an assumed name. The hair and taste in music remains the same. Also, a huge thanks to Sprogy, who agreed to take on betaing duties for another WIP.

Pure humorous fluff for the first couple of chapters, but spiraling down into the land of angst in chapter five. Lots of drama to come. Hints of GSR and CWR. Since no one can seem to decide how old Lindsey is, I have decided to make her about thirteen and a freshman. Also, I realize that on the show the police station and the CSI lab are actually separate buildings, but for plot purposes I have smooshed them together with a maze of hallways connecting the two.

Chapter 1 A younger, punker Brass

"So what do you think?" Nick questioned the man walking beside him down the hallway. "Do we have enough for a warrant?"

"I hope so," Warrick replied. "I'm itching to get a look inside this guy's apartment."

They were working a murder case, and all they had so far were a few stray hairs and their suspicions about a next door neighbor who couldn't come up with an alibi. They needed more, which is why they were now standing outside Jim Brass's office, hoping for his help in getting a warrant to search the man's apartment.

"Damn, doesn't look like he's here." Warrick scanned the apparently empty office.

"Light are on, so maybe he just stepped out. I'm going to use the phone to page him." Nick was just reaching for the phone when the black chair behind Brass's desk suddenly swiveled around.

"Don't touch that."

Nick was startled enough by the voice that he lowered his hand and took a step back.

"Just kidding." The occupant of the chair smiled. Nick and Warrick couldn't help but smile back. Instead of the middle aged, weather homicide captain they had come to see, the two CSI's were now facing a confident teenage girl, sitting in the chair like she belonged there. With trained eyes they took in the sight before them, each noticing the short crop of bright pink hair, the multitude to piercings in her ears (those weren't really screws in the bottom holes, were they?) the black t-shirt the proudly declared 'Flogging Molly' and the glittering eye shadow. She looked to be about fifteen or so.

"Can we help you with something?"

"Are you lost?" Both men found their voices at the same time.

The girl laughed as she shook her head, taking delight in the expressions on their faces. "No, I'm cool. Just hanging out while I wait for my uncle. I was talking to Doc Robbins, but then David brought in a body and for some reason the doc wouldn't let me stay."

If possible, the men looked even more confused.

"Your uncle?" Warrick asked.

"Yeah. Uncle Jimmy. I'm staying with him for a while. He just picked me up from the airport, but then he got a call and we had to come straight here."

"Uncle Jimmy?" Nick was the one to ask this time. He was pretty sure he knew who she meant, but was having a hard time believing his own thoughts.

"Jim Brass." Her eyes glittered with amusement as she stood up and held out her hand. "I'm Hailey Brass. Are you guys cops or CSIs?"

"CSIs." Warrick accepted the proffered hand, surprised to find Hailey's grip to be firm. "I'm Warrick. Warrick Brown."

"Uncle Jimmy is right. You do have a Lenny Kravitz thing going on." Turning to the other CSI, Hailey took in the short brown hair and all-American looks. "That must make you Nick Stokes, Crime Stopper."

Nick also shook her hand, shaking his head at the same time. "I am never living that down, am I?"

"Would you rather be known as 'the guy who thought helicopters dropped scuba divers into trees?'" Hailey quipped.

"I'm going to like you, girl." Warrick commented.

"Sorry about that, kiddo. Hope you weren't bored." Jim Brass walked to his office, not noticing until he stepped inside that more then just his niece were present.

"No sweat, Uncle J. I always find a way to entertain myself."

Brass took in the amused look on Warrick's face and the slightly embarrassed expression on Nick's. "That I don't doubt, kid."

"I know you probably need to get home, Brass," Warrick began, "But Nick and I were hoping..."

Jim sighed. It seemed he was stuck at work for at least a while longer.

"Chair's all your, Uncle Jimmy. I'm gonna wander the halls and see how much trouble I can get into before it's time to go." Hailey stepped out from behind the desk, nodding to her uncle and winking at the two visitors as she passed them on her way out the room.

"Something tells me it's going to be an interesting year," Brass remarked before turning the conversation to talk of judges, evidence and warrants.

Hailey soon grew bored with the sterile white walls of the police station. With a few twists and turns down the many long corridors, she soon found herself in the glass lined walls that marked the CSI's domain. She was surprised to hear the faint sounds of Ima Robot, and followed the music down the hallway. It grew in volume as she walked towards the labs, reaching a crescendo outside of a room marked 'DNA.' She just watched for a minute, entertained by the sight of the spiky haired lab tech dancing around the room as he carefully balanced a tray of test tubes in one hand. At one point he tripped over something on the floor, but caught himself and the tray without spilling a single drop. Hailey couldn't help herself. She applauded.

"Nice moves."

"What the..." Greg turned, momentarily alarmed by the sound. Grissom was supposedly off tonight, but you never knew when he might pop in.

"Good taste in music too."

Greg set the DNA samples down on the table before reaching for the CD player, turning down the volume. "Can I help you?" he queried.

"Why does everyone keep asking me that? Do I look lost or something?"

Greg seemed momentarily taken aback, until he noticed the twinkling of her eyes. "You're just a bit younger and a little...cooler... then most the people who usually come in here."

"I'll take that as a complement. I'm Hailey."

"Greg Sanders, DNA genius," he introduced himself. "So you're not lost. Perhaps you're in search of the best cup of coffee you've ever experienced? I just put on a pot of my special brew, Blue Hawaiian. You haven't lived until you've tasted this stuff."

"Five minutes, and you've already discovered the way to my heart," Hailey joked as she accepted a mug of the fragrant beverage. She took a sip, closing her eyes in appreciation. "Perfect."

"So, Hailey, got a last name?"

Hailey took another sip before answering. "Brass," she stated.

Greg, who had also taken a sip of his own coffee, almost choked at her announcement. "Brass?" he sputtered, the expression on his face half confusion mixed with shock. "Any relation to..."

"Captain Brass? Yeah, that would be my uncle."

Greg did a double take of the teenager standing in his lab, looking for any sign that she was related to the homicide captain that he was secretly a little scared of. Not as scared as he was of Grissom, but still. Any common feature that might exist was obscured by the makeup, hair dye, and vastly different expressions.

"You, and Brass are...I mean...wow." Greg took a sip of coffee to steady himself. An image of the cop and the teenager standing next to each other flashed in his head, and he suddenly relaxed.

"That is just, like, cool. Very cool. I'm glad to meet you, Hailey."

"It's mutual, Greg." Hailey tipped her mug against Greg's in a mock toast.

"So, what are you doing in the neon lit city of ours? Visiting your uncle for a vacation?"

"Visiting, yes. Vacation, no. I'm moving in with my uncle for a year while my mom is teaching in Spain," Hailey explained.

"A year, with Brass." Greg couldn't keep in the slight shudder at the thought.

"He intimidates you too." Hailey noted. "Back in Jersey, he had all the rookie cops running scared. Next time I come in, I'll bring the picture I have of my fifth Christmas. Hard to be nervous around a man after you've seen him dressed as Santa Claus."

"S-S-Santa?" This time, the coffee in Greg's mouth went flying into the room, dispersed as a fine mist that might have resembled blood splatter if the color had been different. "Captain Brass, dressed as Santa Claus? This I've got to see."

They were both laughing at the thought when a new voice interrupted them.

"I'm guessing it's not my DNA results that you find so amusing." Sara walked into the lab, taking in the chuckling lab tech and the girl seated beside him. "Paying teenagers to do your work, Greggo? Isn't that a little high schoolish," she joked dryly.

"Sara. No, your results will be ready in a minute." Greg set down the mug of coffee, tucking away the image of Brass in a Santa suit to enjoy at a future time.

"Hailey, this is Sara Sidle, the smartest CSI you'll ever meet. Best solve rate in the lab. Sara, this is Hailey, Brass's niece. She just moved to Vegas."

"Nice to meet you, Hailey. And its second best solve rate. Grissom's first," she corrected.

Hailey had to smile when Sara mentioned the night shift supervisor. She had heard stories about the two of them from her uncle. "Nice meeting you too. Sounds like you guys actually have work to do, so I'm going to go see if Uncle Jimmy is ready to take me home yet." Retracing her path, Hailey left the lab and followed the maze of hallways back to the police station.

"There you are. I was just coming to look for you." Brass was waiting in the corridor just outside his office. "Let's get out of here before someone else finds me."

"Sure thing, Uncle J."

"So, where did you disappear to?" Brass asked as they climbed into his truck and fastened their seat belts.

"Just wandered. Met Sara and Greg. Greg is awesome, plus he really knows how to make coffee."

"You are your mother's daughter," Brass remarked. "Not a shy bone in your body, is there?"

"Right, and your so shy and reserved yourself, Uncle J. Must be a family trait."

"Must be, kiddo, must be."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2- We were unfairly imprisoned

It so wasn't her fault. Okay, maybe it was, but the moment she had stepped into the class she had known that she couldn't stay there. Her teacher didn't know anything. Hailey had already spent the morning in class, and was pretty happy with most of them. Chemistry was her favorite, but math and English seemed like they would be good too. Spanish, though, was

another matter. How she had wound up in a level two class was beyond her. She had spent the whole summer in Spain last year. Her mother was a flipping Spanish teacher. There was no way Hailey was going to sit in a class and review colors and counting to fifty. So maybe going to the

principle's office would have been a better choice then running across the street to Seven-Eleven, but it was too late to change that now.

"Bored, bored, bored." The blond girl in the chair next to Hailey was tapping her fingers on the arm rest and muttering under her breath.

"You here to see the principle too?" Hailey questioned. The sullen girl nodded.

"What you in for? I cut class, which they apparently frown on here."

"Fighting. Jason called me a bitch, so I punched him. My mom always says to stand up for myself, and not take crap from any man."

"My mom tells me the same thing, but I think she'd throw a fit if I ever punched someone. 'Violence is never the best solution' she always says. I'm Hailey, by the way."

"Lindsey," the other girl responded. "My mom's gonna be mad too. This is the third time she's been called to pick me up, and she's always either asleep or at work."

"Hailey Brass, come here please." The principle stood in the office doorway. Hailey rolled her eyes at Lindsey, who grinned at her.

"Good luck," she whispered.

Catherine was walking to her car, about to leave a crime scene, when her phone rang.

"Willows." She listened to the voice on the other end, the smile on her face fading. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

Damn, what was she supposed to do now? Warrick had already left for the lab, taking with him the bulk of the evidence. Catherine had stayed for a few last items. Now, however, she needed to go the high school and pick up Lindsey, who was in trouble yet again. Just then, Brass came out of the house, heading for his own truck.

"Hey, Brass, I need you to do me a little favor. I'll owe you one."

"What..." Brass's cell phone rang at that moment. "Hold that thought. Brass speaking." He listened intently for a moment before hanging up. "Sorry, Catherine, can't help you out. That was just Hailey's school. Apparently, she's decided to start her education at Dunes High by getting well acquainted with the principal. I have to go pick her up."

"Wait a minute. Did you say Dunes High?" She looked at him with an expression of shock on her face. A very un-Catherine expression that caught Jim's attention more then her words did.

"Yeah, why?"

"That's the favor. I need you to take my evidence to the lab so that I can go to the high school and pick Lindsey up from the principal's office."

"Oh, great. This is one of those moments to write home about. Dear Sis- took your daughter to school today. The good news is, she really made an impression," Brass remarked wryly.

"It doesn't make much sense for both of us to miss work," Catherine noted.

"Flip you for it," Brass joked.

Catherine shook her head, but managed to keep from rolling her eyes. Men. "It's almost the end of the shift. Why don't I go deal with the school while you take my evidence back to the lab? I'll drop Hailey off at the station on my way home."

"Works for me. The less time I have to spend in schools the better. Damn place always makes me break out in a rash. I spent more then a few hours with the principal when I was a student."

"No, Jim. You? Never would have guessed." Sarcasm dripped from Catherine's voice.

Jim pretended to ignore her comment. "Hailey will be the girl with the pink hair and the 'who me?' expression on her face."

Hailey had already endured her lecture from the principal, and traded places with Lindsey, who was now facing her own lecture. The outer door to the office swung open, and for just a moment Hailey thought it might be her uncle. She was a little nervous about facing him. Uncle Jim was usually pretty cool, but he might not be about this. Who knew how seriously he was going to take the whole guardian thing. It was new to the both of them.

She was granted a reprieve. It was not her uncle who walked into the room, but a woman with strawberry blond hair. Well dressed, in her late forties, Hailey would have to guess, and enough features in common with Lindsey to tell that they were related. The door to the principal's office swung open, and Lindsey stepped out.

"Uh, hi mom."

Score three points for Hailey. Could she call it or what?

"Fighting, Lindsey? I thought we talked about it last time this happened." Catherine tightened her lips, giving her daughter one of those looks that only moms seem to be able to pull off. Hailey was suddenly glad that her own mom was six thousand miles away.

"Come on, we'll discuss this at home." Hailey was about to pick up one of the out-of-date magazines on the table when Catherine turned her attention to her. "Hailey, you're coming with me too."

"I'm...what...who?" Hailey was momentarily stunned.

"What?" Lindsey also wanted to know.

Catherine realized that they hadn't yet been introduced. "I'm Catherine Willows, a CSI at the Vegas Crime Lab. I work with your uncle."

"Ohh, trippy." Hailey tried to think of something to say, but the only thing running through her head is a conversation she had 'accidentally' overheard about Catherine being an ex-stripper, and the fact that her ex-husband had been killed a couple of years ago. Neither of those details seemed like good conversation starters.

Catherine led the two girls out of the school and towards her car, lecturing the both of them in equal measure. She continued her harangue throughout most of the drive, stopping only long enough for Hailey and Lindsey to offer halfhearted apologies and promises never to repeat their behaviors again.

"At least not unless they deserve it," Lindsey muttered to her companion.

"Lindsey Willows," Catherine snapped, "That is not the right attitude."

"Sorry, mom." Lindsey couldn't stop the grin from spreading across her face, but had enough sense to hide it behind her hand.

"This conversation is far from over, young lady," Catherine informed her daughter as they pulled into the LVPD parking lot. "Wait in the car, I'll be right back."

Catherine and Hailey were halfway to the front door when Hailey turned back to the car.

"Hey, Lindsey," she called out.

Lindsey rolled down the car window and stuck out her head. "Yeah?"

"We should do this again sometime." Hailey could feel Catherine's eyes watching her. "You know, without the detention and stuff."

"That'd be tight."

Jim Brass was waiting next to the reception desk when they walked in.

"Well look, if it isn't my favorite juvenile delinquent. How was your first day of school?" he asked sarcastically.

"I made a new friend," Hailey quipped.

"Wonderful." Brass rolled his eyes.

"So, Uncle Jimmy, any chance you wanna take me out to ice cream to celebrate my first day of school?" She was grinning at him, hoping to avoid any more serious discussion. Hailey had a feeling that if her uncle put his mind to it, he could deliver a lecture ten times more lethal then any her mom had ever given.

"Ice cream. Yeah, right, that's going to happen." Brass grabbed his niece's shoulder and led her back out of the building. "Only place we're going is back to my place. My recommendation; when we get there, you go take a nap, because tonight your coming to work with me."

"Aww, come on, Uncle J. I can stay alone. Mom lets me all the time."

"Guess what? I'm not your mom. I know my natural good looks make us easy to confuse, but I'm the one you're stuck with now, and I say that girls who ditch school can't be trusted to stay home alone."

"But."

"Hailey Elisabeth Brass, this is not up for discussion." There was an edge to his voice, one Hailey guessed he used while interrogating suspects. She didn't dare argue.

"Yes, sir," she said meekly. Or at least as meekly as she was capable of.

"Smart ass." But he tousled her hair as he spoke, and Hailey wasn't worried.

"So, work tonight. You think Greg's on duty?"

To be continued...


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3- Working the night shift

"All done with my homework. What am I supposed to do now?" It was almost one o'clock in the morning. Hailey had been stuck in her uncle's office for the entire two hours of graveyard shift. Until now, she had her homework to occupy her, but there was only so much chemistry she could study before her brain imploded.

"I don't suppose sitting quietly in the corner and minding your own business is an option?" He knew it wasn't, but said it anyway.

"Ha, ha. Your so funny, Uncle Jimmy. So very, very funny."

"Glad to know someone appreciates my finely honed wit," Brass remarked sarcastically. "Alright, here are the ground rules. You stay in this building. You do not bother people. Stay away from lock up."

"I promise." Hailey jumped up from her chair and leaned over to kiss his cheek, intent on leaving the office before he could change his mind.

"Hailey." She froze with her hand on the doorknob and looked over her shoulder.

"Don't forget, before you do anything; there are surveillance cameras all over this building, and the guys in security work for me."

"Damn, there goes my plan to get Nick and Warrick to buy me a six pack."

"Just get out of here, brat."

"Try not to miss me too much." With that, Hailey disappeared down the hallway.

She went to the DNA lab first, hoping for another conversation with Greg, a cup of coffee, or both. It was empty, and so was the coffee pot. So much for that idea. Hailey wandered the halls, looking for any of the people she had met the other night. No Nick, Warrick, or Sara. No Catherine, who she was hoping to pester for details about her daughter. Lindsey, she thought, had definite potential.

Hailey spent an hour wandering around the different labs, making small talk with the techs. Jacquie took her fingerprints and ran them through AFIS, teaching her about the process as she went. Bobby was comparing shell casings, and let her examine the evidence. The lines and grooves matched. The AV lab was her favorite. Archie showed her how to manipulate photos.

They started with her uncle's ID photo, and by the time they were done he had a goatee, a uni-brow, and an afro.

"Thanks, Archie." Hailey left the lab, carrying a printout of the altered photo.

"Don't let your uncle see that. If he does, you didn't get it here, 'k?"

"No worries. I'll put it in my school locker."

Hailey had already been in all but one of the labs. She snuck past the last one, having been warned by her uncle that Hodges was one of the few people on night shift she might want to avoid. She had almost made up her mind to make her way back to the police side of the building when she smelled the enticing aroma of coffee. Following her nose, Hailey found herself standing in the doorway to what must be a break room. A table surrounded by chairs, sofa, mini fridge and microwave were all crowded into the room. More importantly, a coffee pot sat on the counter, and it was almost full. Surely no one would mind if she helped herself to a cup.

"Sugar, sugar, where is the sugar?" She muttered to herself as she opened cabinets. There had to be sugar around here somewhere.

"It's in the cupboard above the fridge, right next to the sign that says employees only."

The voice startled Hailey, and she almost dropped the mug. Turning around, she was faced with one of the people she had yet to meet. Just under six feet tall, salt and pepper hair, beard, and blue eyes. Only one person this could be.

"You must be the Bugman."

"What?" A single eyebrow shot up in question.

"Dr. Gil Grissom, PhD in entomology, supervisor for the graveyard shift of CSI. That's you right?" Hailey was enjoying her brief moment of holding the upper hand. From stories her uncle told her, it was rare to have more knowledge then the renowned doctor.

"Now that we've established who I am, how about answering the question of who you are."

"Come on, Dr. Grissom. If I told you that, it would be depriving you of an interesting puzzle. You wouldn't want me to do that, would you?" She was taking a risk, not sure if her teasing would intrigue or alienate this man her uncle counted as a friend.

Grissom slowly looked over the teenager who had infiltrated his domain. She exuded confidence, and he had known at first glance that she wasn't a victim. At the same time, even if he wasn't aware of every case being investigated, he would still be sure she wasn't a suspect either. She smiled at him, and something in the cocky expression struck him as being familiar. It was like she had a secret, and was waiting for just the right moment to bring it out. Where had he seen that self-pleased look before?

"Still stumped, Grissom?"

There it was. That tone in her voice when she said his name. "Brass," he nodded, pleased to have figured it out. "You have to be Jim Brass's niece."

"You're too good. I was sure you'd need at least one clue. Did Uncle J tell you I was coming?"

"No, but I heard a couple of my guys talking before assignments."

"Oh, was it Greg?" Hailey asked hopefully. She wasn't ashamed to admit that she had a bit of a crush on the spiky haired lab tech-CSI.

"I think it was Nick, maybe Warrick." He hadn't really been paying attention to the idle chit chat before shift started. Sara had been a few minutes late, and his mind was occupied with alternately making up worse case scenarios for her tardiness and rationalizing how they couldn't be true.

"My name's Hailey, by the way." She switched the coffee mug to her left hand before stick out her right hand in greeting.

Grissom accepted the hand, shaking it with his own. He couldn't decide if he should be amused or impressed by this relative of Jim's. Maybe a combination of both. She reminded him of a younger Greg, with the wild hair, strange clothing and the obvious intelligence. More self assured then Greg usually was, at least around him. Speaking of Greg...

"Hey Griss, I just talked to Jacquie. CODIS found a match to the prints on the knife." Greg walked into the room.

"Anyone we know?" Grissom asked, immediately putting all of his attention on the case.

"Yeah, the victim's brother."

"Sounds like sibling rivalry taken one step too far," Hailey joked.

"Wait until the evidence is in before theorizing," Grissom remarked before he realized who had done the talking.

"Yes sir, boss." She winked at Greg behind Grissom's back, and Greg grinned back at her.

Grissom hastily left the room, muttering something about being outnumbered.

"So, brother's prints on the knife. Are you sure it's the murder weapon?" Hailey questioned Greg between sips of coffee.

Greg took a moment to read the System of a Down lyrics on Hailey's shirt before answering. Really, he was trying to decide what to tell her. Blood, murderer, and evidence collection were not things he usually discussed with teenagers.

Hailey seemed to sense his reticence. "If your worried about giving me too many details, don't. Uncle Jimmy always tells me about his most interesting cases. His stories about investigating murders were always my favorite bedtime stories." She worried that she was sounding a little callous, and maybe too morbid. "Not that murder is, like, good. But Uncle Jimmy can spin a story like no other."

Her words reassured Greg, though he was still a little weirded out by the whole 'Uncle Jimmy' thing. He tried to picture the captain tucking a younger Hailey into bed, regaling her with stories if his day. He couldn't.

"I need to make castings of the wound, for comparison, before I can be sure that it's the weapon. Chances are good, though, because the DNA matches," Greg explained.

"Can I watch?" Hanging out with Greg, observing him work sounded like the most interesting thing to do at two thirty in the morning.

"Can you watch me make the molds? No. Doc Robbins has this rule about no kids in the morgue. You can wait here for me, though, and I'll show you the results."

"I'm not a kid," Hailey groused. "Nothing in the morgue but dead bodies, and it isn't like I haven't seen one of those before." Shit. She shouldn't have said that out loud. Now Greg was giving her a look.

"You'll be in the layout room, after?" she asked. She waited for him to nod, then turned and left the room before he could ask any questions.

"So you can see the shape of the knife and the mold of the wound match. That, plus the victim's blood, tells us that this is the murder weapon." For Hailey's benefit, Greg spoke out loud as he measured. He had made the mold, but one thing led to another and it was almost the end of shift before he found Hailey again.

"Look at this, Warrick. Still a trainee and he's already teaching his own classes." Nick teased as he and Warrick walked into the room.

"Where can we sign up?" Warrick jested. "CSI, Sander's style. I'm in, as long as it doesn't involve wearing latex gloves on our heads or dancing in the halls."

"You guys here for a reason, or just popping in to make fun of me?" Greg tried to sound annoyed, but failed.

"We have a reason. The teasing is just a perk, Greggo." Hailey had to bite her lip to keep from laughing at Nick's response.

"Yeah. Shift's over in twenty, and we wanted to see if you were up for breakfast afterwards," Warrick explained.

Hailey clapped down harder on her lip. 'Can I come, can I come?' she wanted to ask.

"Sure, who else is going?" Greg asked Nick.

"The two of us, so far. Sara said no and Catherine has to go straight home. Something about Lindsey being grounded. Griss wasn't in his office, so we haven't asked him. We still have to find Brass, to see if he and Hailey can come."

"Really? Me?" Hailey couldn't help exclaiming. Breakfast with the guys, could there be a better way to start the day?

"Yeah, you. We invite all the cool people, builds up our reps." Warrick's green eyes were twinkling with humor.

"Can I go ask him, now?" It took her a moment to formulate the question, temporarily mesmerized by the man staring at her. He really should be performing on a stage somewhere. Warrick was so cool looking; it wouldn't even matter if he could sing.

"Sure. I'll come with you."

There was an extra bounce in Hailey's step as she walked down the hallway next to Warrick.

To be continued...


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4- Breakfast with the Guys

"Please?" Hailey's eyebrows were raised in expectation. She was tempted to stick out her lower lip, but thought that might be too much.

Jim Brass looked from his niece's hopeful expression, to the CSI standing beside her, to the pile of paperwork in his 'in' box. Slowly, he shook his head. Damn, but it was hard to say no to those hopeful brown eyes.

"Sorry, kid. I'm stuck here until I finish with all this. I just hope I can get it done before it's time to take you to school."

"Aww, Uncle Jimmy. Can't we do breakfast first? You can do the paperwork later. Surely you don't want to send your favorite niece to school without the most important meal of the day?" she teased.

"Favorite by default," Brass snorted. "Being the only child of my only sibling makes the competition scarce."

"But you love me anyway." Hailey leaned her elbows against her uncle's desk so that their faces were only a foot apart. She grinned at him.

"Yes, for some unexplainable reason, I do. And still, I say no to breakfast."

Hailey was about to give up hope when Warrick spoke up for the first time since entering the office.

"As much as we'll miss your banal wit at breakfast, we'd still be cool with Hailey coming. What if I take her, and drop her of at school on my way home? Saves you a trip, and I'm sure you'll finish your files quicker without a pouting teenager hanging around."

Hailey was so grateful at his words that she decided to overlook the 'pouting teen' comment. She raised her eyebrows, concentrating on him as if she could influence his response with the power of her thoughts. Say yes, say yes.

"Are you sure about this, War?" Brass turned from the stare to ask the question.

"No sweat. I've dropped Linds off a couple of times, so I know where the school is."

"Alright, if you're willing to take her, I have no problem with her going." Brass reached out and caught Hailey's attention with a hand on her shoulder. "You behave at breakfast, and at school today, hear me? I don't want to get any more phone calls from the office."

"You won't, I promise. No more unscheduled field trips." Hailey leaned forward a little farther and kissed her uncle on the forehead before straightening up and turning to face Warrick. "We ready to go?"

Warrick just nodded, afraid that if he opened his mouth he might have to laugh. The sight of Brass, gruff sardonic police captain, being kissed by this teenager, was not something he would soon forget.

"I'm getting the pancakes, side of sausage." Greg stated as soon as they sat down.

"Biscuits and gravy," Warrick decided.

"Hamburger and fries." Nick decided to skip breakfast and go straight for lunch.

None of them had bothered to open their menus. Years of meals at the same diner made it unnecessary. Hailey did not have their advantage, and actually had to read the menu before deciding to go with the French toast.

"So, what do you think of our city, so far?" Greg inquired after the waitress took their order.

"Haven't seen much, besides the airport, school, and Uncle Jimmy's. And the lab, of course."

"What, no mall, no arcade, no casinos?" Greg seemed personally affronted at the oversight.

"She's a little young for the casinos, Greggo," Nick pointed out.

"Casinos aren't just about gambling," Greg shot back.

"There's roller coasters and shows, restaurants and stores. Vegas casinos are a world unto themselves." Greg informed Hailey.

"I don't really see Brass taking his niece to any casino," Nick argued lightly.

"Children, stop your bickering." Warrick rolled his eyes at the pair.

At that moment, the waitress arrived with two coffee pots. "Regular or unleaded?" she inquired.

The three CSIs, on their way to bed after breakfast was over, chose decaf. Hailey went with the regular.

"Gonna stunt your growth," Nick teased.

"One can only hope." At five foot seven, Hailey was as tall as she ever wanted to be.

"So, where are your parents, while you spend the year here?" Warrick asked after their food was served. Hailey occupied herself cutting up the toast while she answered.

"My mom got an offer to teach at a university in Madrid for a year. She jumped at the chance. I so didn't want to do Spain again. One summer was enough for me. I called up Uncle Jimmy, and after many conversations here I am."

"And your dad went with her?" Nick asked.

"My dad's not in the picture. It's always been just me and my mom." That was not the whole truth, but she wasn't about to get into those two and a half years with Bruce. It wasn't something she talked about, ever.

"Kind of a Gilmore Girls family," Greg remarked.

"A what?" Nick looked at Greg with a puzzled expression on his face. Hailey had to laugh, both at Nick's expression and Greg's pop culture reference.

"You watch Gilmore Girls?" she asked the now-blushing man.

"Not anymore, but I had a girlfriend a couple years ago who didn't miss an episode," Greg explained

Like any girl with a crush, Hailey didn't like hearing Greg mention a girlfriend. She took comfort from his speaking of the relationship in the past tense.

"It's a show about a single mom and her teenage daughter, living in a small Connecticut town," Hailey told the other two men, who obviously had never spent any time in Stars Hollow. Warrick just nodded, while Nick playfully punched Greg in the arm and muttered the word 'whipped' under his breath.

Hailey decided that enough questions had been asked of her, it was time to turn the microscope on the three men surrounding her. "So, any of you guys have a girlfriend?" It was funny to see the response to her (almost) innocent question. These three men, who calmly discussed murder, blood splatter, and severed limbs became flustered and began to sputter when questioned about their personal relationships. Maybe it was just being asked by a fourteen year old.

"Well I, uh..."

"Working night shift it's hard..."

"There was that girl..."

Hailey rolled her eyes. You'd think she asked them about their sex lives, not simply dating. Men. "So that would pretty much be a no for all of you."

"So David comes in, following the sound, and you can tell from his expression that he thinks we're receiving communication from another planet." Nick was telling the story from a few weeks ago, of a body found just outside Area 51. Throughout breakfast, the three CSIs had all taken turns relating their more bizarre cases. Some of them she had heard before, from her uncle, but most of them were new. Warrick told the story of vampires in Vegas. Nick spoke of the man who drove for miles, chased by cops, with a nine inch wooden stake in his head. Greg didn't have many stories of being out in the field, but bragged of the many times his DNA evidence broke open a case.

Breakfast was over, had been for a while, but they were lingering over their coffee. Warrick was glancing at his watch, though, and Hailey took it as a sign that it was almost time to leave. Sure enough, he motioned to get the waitresses attention, and asked for the bill.

"Pay up, guys. Fourteen bucks a piece, and that covers the tip."

Hailey reached for her duct tape wallet, but Nick stopped her.

"We've got you covered, Hails."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, CSI rules. You have to be around at least a week before you chip in on the bill. Next time, you can pay," Greg answered.

"Nah. Next time, I'll bring Uncle Jimmy with me. He can pay." Hailey loved the sound of laughter that followed her as she walked out of the diner.

"Thanks for the ride, War." Hailey picked up her backpack and opened the passenger door of Warrick's silver Mustang.

"No prob, Hails," Warrick commented. He almost said goodbye, but decided he wanted to satisfy his curiosity. "By the way, what did Brass mean earlier, about no more phone calls? You in trouble already?"

"No...not really," Hailey hedged. "Let's just say I'm supposed to stay on campus from now on, and despite the fact that everyone at Seven Eleven is from out of the country, a trip there doesn't actually count as Spanish class."

For the second time that morning, Hailey walked away with the sound of laughter behind her. She was starting to walk towards the school when she spotted a familiar looking blond walking ahead of her.

"Hey Lindsey, wait up."

To be continued...


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five - Sleepover interrupted

Hailey's hair was red today. A deep intense red that shimmered in the sunlight like stained glass as she sat in front of the school.

"Sorry I'm late. Mrs. Johansen wouldn't stop talking, kept us after the bell for ten minutes." Lindsey tossed her backpack on the ground and joined Hailey on the curb.

"I hate when teachers do that. Don't they realize that we have actual lives outside of school?" Hailey sympathized with her friend.

"Obviously not," Lindsey muttered. "So, has my mom shown yet?"

"No sign of her so far." Catherine was scheduled to pick of the two teens and take them to the mall, where they were going to watch a movie. Tonight, Hailey was sleeping over at the Willow's house. It was their first slumber party, after almost a month of hanging out together. The duel bonds of shared detention and relatives who worked together had been a breeding

ground for friendship. Hailey and Lindsey had become best friends overnight, in the way that only teenage girls can do.

"So, I was thinking we could stop off at Hot Topic after the movie, pick up some more dye so that we can do your tips tonight."

"Good plan. I'm thinking blue." Lindsey played with the edges of her hair as she spoke, trying to envision what they would look like blue. Trying not to envision what her mom's face would look like when she saw her hair dyed blue. "Speaking of color, I think I almost have my mom talked into letting me paint my room. I would love to do something like you did."

The first weekend after she moved to town, Hailey's uncle had taken her to the paint store and told her to pick any color scheme she wanted. If she was going to be living with him for a year, he wanted her to have a space that was all hers. Hailey had taken him at his word, picking a deep purple for the walls. With neon pink she painted thin stripes every six inches, to

match the hot pink and black bedspread he had let her pick out at Linens and Things.

"Awesome. I would love to help." Hailey already had visions of paint samples in her head. "A mural could be cool."

"I still have to convince my mom. Maybe you can help tonight."

As if thinking about her mother summoned her, Catherine's car palled into the school parking lot. "Hi girls. How was school?"

"Just peachy," Lindsey responded sarcastically.

Hailey and Lindsey slid into the back seat, enjoying the cold air of the car. The end of September in Vegas was still hot, especially sitting on the pavement in the sun.

"Do you have everything you need, Hailey, or should we stop by your uncle's house?"

"No need, Mrs. Willows, I brought my bag with me." Lindsey jabbed her friend in the side at the polite 'Mrs. Willows.' It was not at all how Hailey normally talked.

"Can we leave our stuff in the car, mom? We don't want to have to cart it all around the mall."

"Sure thing. So, have you decided what movie you're seeing?" Catherine asked.

"I think we're going for Red Eye. Susan saw it last weekend, said it was great," Lindsey told her mom.

"Plus, Cillian Murphy is so cute," Hailey added. "I loved him in Batman Begins."

"Lindsey, you know the rules. No rated R movies"

"But mom..."

"No buts. No rated R unless I go with you." Catherine considered herself to be rather liberal, but there were some things she didn't want her daughter to exposed to. She was far from naive, knew that Lindsey saw far more then she would have liked, but there were some things she could control as a parent and this was one of them.

"Pick a different movie, girls."

"Come on, mom. Just this once can't you relent?" Lindsey couldn't decide if she should look sullen or sweet, and wound up with a rather comical expression on her face. Looking back in the rear view mirror, Catherine had a hard time not laughing.

"Keep it up, Linds, and I'm buying you tickets to whatever movie Disney just released."

At that threat, both girls started making gagging noises. Disney, to a pair of teenage girls, is the antithesis of cool.

"Fine," Lindsey sighed.

"I guess we can go see Transporter 2," Hailey tried to cheer up Lindsey. After they had watched the first one.

"Two tickets to Transporter 2." Catherine had insisted on parking the car and walking them up to the box office to purchase the tickets.

"That'll be sixteen dollars," the bored looking man in the red vest told her. Catherine paid the fee, and then turned to give the girls a mini lecture before she left.

"I'll pick you up right here in four hours. Don't leave the mall. Don't..."

"...talk to strangers or accept a ride from anyone who isn't you, grandma, or one of the guys from the lab," Lindsey interrupted. "We know, we won't, now go." She gave her mom a quick hug to counterbalance her words.

"Well aren't you just little-miss-know-it-all." Catherine shook her head even as she smiled at her daughter. "Four hours, here. That's 7:30. Got it?"

Lindsey agreed, then hurried with Hailey into the multiplex. After buying a tub of popcorn, extra butter, and two sodas, they handed their tickets to the attendant. When they were sure his back was turned they ducked into theater 12, currently showing Red Eye.

They claimed seats in the middle of the theater as opposed to on an aisle, reasoning that it would be harder to see them in the dark, and therefore harder to be kicked out. Slouching down in the chairs, a further method of not being noticed, they whispered and giggled until the lights dimmed and the previews began. The talking continued through the previews as they voted on which future movies they wanted to see, but as soon as the starting credits rolled they both quieted.

"That was awesome." It had been the perfect movie, full of blood and gore and things popping out at unexpected moments.

"So, are you as starved as I am?" Hailey asked.

"I'm so thinking hamburgers. Mickey D's work for you?"

"Perfect. Food, then Hot Topics. We have an hour and a half until you mom comes, which should be plenty of time." Lindsey and Hailey walked through the mall, stopping often to covet items of clothing hanging in store windows. Thirty minutes later, empty stomachs appeased, they were walking back though the mall on their quest for hair dye.

"Dark blue, or more of a turquoise?" Lindsey sought a second opinion.

"Turquoise. It would never work on my hair, dark as it is, but would look sweet against your blond hair. You're lucky; you don't have to deal with bleach." The hair coloring was quickly chosen, but there was still a whole store full of merchandise to peruse. It was 7:25 when Lindsey noticed the digital readout on her cell phone. They ran out of the store, racing down

the halls until they reached the entrance to the movie theater. One minute to spare, but it was apparently enough, because Catherine was not yet there. The only vehicle parked along the curb was a black van.

Catherine hit the first speed dial button again, hoping for a different result. Lindsey was not answering her phone. Knowing her daughter, Catherine assumed that she had turned off the ring for the movie, and had subsequently forgotten to turn it back on. Hopefully she would check it soon. Catherine had been called to a crime scene right after dropping the girls off, and was only just now getting off. She was going to be at least half an hour late picking them up, and that was only if there wasn't any traffic.

"Come on, Linds. Pick up the phone."

It happened fast. One minute they were sitting on the bench, making up exaggerated stories to tell Catherine about the movie they had been supposed to watch. The next, the doors to the van in the parking lot opened and three men jumped out. Dressed in jeans and black turtlenecks, with ski masks covering their heads and faces, the men ran towards them, grabbing the two girls before they understood what was going on. One held down Hailey from behind, so that no matter how much she kicked and struggled all she was doing was fighting the air. One of the other men yanked Lindsey from the bench, dragging her in the direction of the van.

"It's this one, the blond," the man said in a low thick voice. On hearing the confirmations, the third man returned to the van, entering the driver's side. Hailey struggled even harder when she saw her friend being manhandled into the back of the van.

"Lindsey!" She tried to shout, but a hand was covering her mouth.

"Quiet, little girl, or worse will happen to you." It was spoken in a whisper, but the threat behind the words was clear. Hailey didn't care. She had to do something. A small corner of the man's flesh found its way between Hailey's teeth, and she bit down, hard.

"Help!" she screamed. Something hit her from behind, then, and she fell to the ground. The last thing she saw before she blacked out was the man who had held her captive running to the van and jumping into the back as it pulled away. She squinted as everything became gray. R14. The first digits of the license plate were R14. She repeated it to herself as she slipped into unconsciousness.

To be continued...


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6- Reaction shots

Catherine pulled up behind a trio of police cars and an ambulance, all their lights blazing. Not even bothering to park her car, she pulled up parallel to a red zone, jumping out the moment the car came to a stop.

"Lindsey!" Frantically looking around for any sign of her daughter, she alighted upon Hailey sitting in the ambulance, one hand holding an ice pack up to her head.

"Hailey, honey, what happened? Where's Lindsey?" She ran to the teen, placing a hand on her shoulder. It was meant as a comforting gesture, but the moment Hailey felt the touch she burst into tears.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I couldn't stop them, couldn't do anything but watch." Hailey was shaking now. Forgetting the ice pack she wrapped both arms around herself in an effort to stop.

"Couldn't stop who, Hailey?" Unable to get a response from the girl, she turned to the paramedic standing next to her. "What the hell is going on?"

The paramedic obviously didn't know who she was. Calmly, he told her all that he knew.

"Someone found the girl, collapsed in front of the theater. When we got here she was starting to come to. She had a nasty abrasion on the back of her head where something hit her. When she could talk, the first thing she told us is that her friend had been kidnapped. Wouldn't..."

Catherine didn't hear anything after the word kidnapped. Lindsey, kidnapped. Someone had her little girl. She stumbled backwards, and would have fallen if a uniformed officer hadn't caught her. She recognized him vaguely from past crime scenes.

"Mrs. Willows, why don't we sit down?" He led her to the curb, just a few steps away. "Can I get you some water, or anything?"

"My daughter. You can get me my daughter. I don't need anything else." She looked away from him. Catherine knew none of this was the young man's fault. He was only trying to help, but she had nothing to spare for civility. She had nothing, period. A part of her was busy making plans, thinking of the calls she needed to make and the clues she should be searching for. Mostly, though, she was frozen. All the thoughts running through her head, she didn't know which ones to follow. Which ones would get her daughter back. Wrapped in a fog of pain, she even forgot about the pain of the girl seated just a few feet away.

Hailey couldn't stop the shivers that coursed through her body. Wave after wave hit her, until she couldn't keep her hands on her body and they hung at her side, fluttering helplessly. She didn't notice, though. Except for the brief moment when Catherine appeared in front of her, Hailey's mind was stuck in a continuous loop, playing the kidnapping over and over. Sometimes she saw it the way it happened. Sometimes she changed it, in her mind. Did something different that changed the outcome. Moved quicker, fought harder, screamed louder. In her mind, she had saved Lindsey, all this was just a nightmare she would wake up from it tomorrow.

Warrick and Sara were on their way to the mall. The only thing they had been told was that a teenager had been reported missing and another teen was injured. A slow night at CSI meant that Greg was tailing along. Sara pulled into the first available parking spot, and the three CSIs walked into the shower of red and blue swirling lights. Detective Fellows, a new transfer from Washington DC, was in charge of the scene. Sara went over talk to him, while Warrick headed towards the ambulance to interview the witness. Greg followed him.

Her head was slumped, and she was leaning against the tire of the ambulance as if it was the only thing holding her up. Warrick almost didn't recognize the woman who he had worked alongside of for almost ten years. Then she moved, just the slightest bit, and he knew.

"Catherine." He knelt down in front of her, lifting her chin with his hand until her eyes met his own. They were filled with unshed tears, and that scared him. Never had he seen Catherine cry. Not when she was going through her divorce, not when she had been attacked at a crime scene. If Catherine was this upset, something was horribly wrong.

"Cath, what's wrong?"

She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. A deep breath taken and she was able to force out a whisper.

"Lindsey. They took Lindsey."

"Oh God, Cath." He didn't know what to say, so went with his first instinct and enveloped her in a hug. He held her as tightly as he dared, as if he could infuse her with his own strength.

Greg stood back, frozen with shock and unsure of what he should be doing. A soft sound from behind spurred him into action.

"Greg?" It was so quiet he didn't recognize the voice until he turned around. It had never occurred to him, when learning that Lindsey was the missing teen, that the injured witness might be someone they knew too.

"Hailey. Oh, Hail-bop, are you okay?" He practically jumped into the ambulance, shoving the paramedic out of his way.

"Greg? I can't change it. I keep trying, but it comes out the same every time." She wasn't looking at him, wasn't really looking at anything. Her eyes were glazed, her skin cold to the touch. It scared him, the flat tone of voice, the empty stare. Greg reached for his cell phone, dialing the number of the one person who Hailey needed most right now.

"You've reached the phone of Jim Brass. I can't be reached right now. I'm either interrogating a suspect or vacationing in Aruba. Please leave a message, and I might get back to you."

Greg didn't even bother leaving a message. He just dialed the next number he thought of.

"Grissom." The night shift supervisor was in his office, signing his name to the two thousand pages of paper stacked on his desk. At least that's what it felt like to him.

"Griss, its Greg. Do you know where Brass is?"

The words themselves were peculiar, Greg asking him for Brass, but it was the tone in Greg's voice that had Grissom removing his glasses and offering a puzzled look to the empty office. "Why?"

"He's not answering his phone. Is he there at the station?"

"I believe he's interviewing a suspect with Nick, on that arson case. What is this about, Greg?" Just a hint of exasperation sounded in his voice.

"It's bad, Grissom. You're going to have to come down here, but first we need to find Brass." The pressure of the situation gave Greg's voice an air of authority it didn't usually have when speaking to his boss.

"Who is it?" Grissom steeled himself for the worst. Don't let anyone be dead. Let this be something I can fix. Not Sara, please don't let it be anything to do with Sara. Not any of the others, either, but Sara was his first thought.

"It's Lindsey. She's been kidnapped. Hailey was with her, and she's pretty shocked. Catherine's here too, arrived a few minutes before we did." There was talking in the background, and a muffled response from Greg that Grissom couldn't make out. "The ambulance is leaving, taking Hailey to Desert Palms. I'm going to go with her. Warrick's with Cath, and I don't think he's going to leave her. Sara's gonna need help processing the scene." It was as close as Greg had ever gotten to giving Grissom an order.

"I'll be there as soon as I can. First, I have to find Jim."

Jim, it turned out, was all too easy to find. A few simple questions asked of the receptionist confirmed that he was in interrogation room 2, with CSI Nick Stokes. Grissom flagged down an officer as he walked towards the room. Knowing both Jim and Nick, the moment they learned of what had happened they would be out of the room and the suspect would be forgotten. This way, someone else would be able to watch him when everyone else left.

Grissom paused outside the door for a moment, trying to figure out the right thing to say. Hesitantly, he opened the door.

"Let's skip the whole made up alibi crap, and try the truth this time." Brass was leaned forward in his chair, staring at the man across the table from him like he was gum on the bottom of a shoe. He didn't seem to notice when Grissom entered the room. Clearing his throat to catch Brass's attention, Grissom spoke.

"I need to see you out in the hallway, Jim."

If it was anyone else, Brass would have been angry. Interrupting an interview was a procedural no-no. You never knew when a person was about to crack, and stopping at the wrong moment can destroy a case. Grissom usually only intruded on an interview in progress when he was bringing news of case affecting evidence, or to ask a seemingly innocent question that broke a suspect's story. Brass assumed that this time was no different. He stood up and walked towards the door.

"You too, Nicky." Now that was odd. Both Brass and Nick aimed questioning looks at Grissom, but he just motioned to the door. There was no way he was talking to them until they were in the semi privacy of the hallway.

"Could you please stay with Mr. Renado, officer?" The cop obliged, entering the room they had just vacated.

"Make this quick, Gil. I almost have this guy. What do you know about the fires?"

"This isn't about the fires, Jim. It's nothing to do with the case, in fact." He was stalling, still trying to put off the events that he knew were coming. It had been hard to listen to Greg on the phone, but to relate the story out loud would be immensely more difficult. Gil Grissom wasn't a man who made friends easily. There were only a few, and most of them worked with him every day. If he had to pick a best friend it would either be the man standing in front of him, waiting for him to speak, or the woman at a crime scene, waiting for news on her daughter. Still unsure, Grissom reverted into supervisor mode. He focused on the facts.

"The arson case is being put on the back burner. A new case has come in, and I'm putting everyone on it." It helped to think of it that way, as another case. Not as a girl that he had known since birth, frightened and locked up somewhere.

"Gil, I know you don't want Ecklie to get the lab supervisor position he's up for, but that doesn't mean you should try to bluff your way into the spot. Last I checked, you don't have the authority to take me off a case, or put all the labs resources onto one case."

"Not even when it involves your niece?"

With that one question, Brass's whole demeanor changed. Where he had been both annoyed and amused at his friend's behavior, now every muscle in his body was tense and he leaned forward, ready to run at a moment's notice.

"What about Hailey?" The question came from Nick, who had remained quiet until this point.

"She's alright, mostly." Grissom quickly reassured both men. "A bump on her head, possible concussion. Lindsey is missing, though, and presumed kidnapped."

Brass relaxed the slightest bit, reassured that nothing life threatening was wrong. It was all he could focus on, at first. But then the rest of Grissom's information sunk in. Lindsey. Catherine.

"Does Catherine know?" Nick asked, the shock clear in his voice.

"She's at the scene now. I'm on my way, I'll call you when I have more information." He needed to be there now, needed to find evidence that would lead to a suspect, to Lindsey.

"I'm coming with you," Nick declared. Grissom shook his head.

"Greg is on the way to the hospital with Hailey. I need you to drive Brass there, so that he makes it as a visitor and not a patient."

Nick looked at the captain, and had to agree with his boss. No way should Brass be behind the wheel right now. "Anything else you need me to do?" Nick needed to have a task. He couldn't just sit around and wait for news.

"Stay with Jim and Hailey. If she's released, bring them back here. Someone is going to have to get Hailey's statement, and the sooner we can talk to her the better." More then any other crime, time was critical in missing person's cases.

"Alright." Nick walked down the hall to the locker room, to retrieve his car keys, leaving Grissom and Brass alone.

"I can't imagine what Catherine's feeling right now," Grissom commented absently.

"I can." To lose a child is the worst kind of hell imaginable. It didn't matter how it happened, or what age they were. Brass could attest to the fact from experience. He still woke up at night sometimes in a cold sweat, wondering where Ellie was, what she was doing. Right now, though, he had another girl to worry about. Nodding his head at Grissom, Brass walked to the entrance and out the front doors, knowing that Nick would catch up to him.

To be continued...


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7- Curtains and Clues

She knew he was there the moment he arrived. To be fair, so did anyone within a thirty foot radius. Emergency rooms were always full of noise, but Brass's voice was audible above all the other sounds.

"I'm looking for Hailey Brass." His voice was loud and gruff, but to Hailey it was the most perfect sound.

"Do you know where she was taken?" the admitting nurse asked.

"If I knew that, would I be asking you? No." His patience was practically nonexistent by now. It had been almost forty five minutes since Grissom had pulled him out of the interview, and if he didn't see his niece soon he was going to...

"I will find out for you, sir. Please wait here." She obviously knew nothing about the temperament of the man she was talking to. There was no way he was just going to wait patiently for her return.

"You have one minute, then I am looking for her myself. Capiche?" He turned towards the nurse just a little, but it was enough so he was sure she could see the badge on his jacket. He had no qualms about using his authority to get what he wanted. Fortunately for the harried nurse, Greg showed up at that moment.

"She's over here, in exam room one." Greg had been with Hailey since they had arrived at the emergency room, only daring to leave her when he heard Brass's demand. It certainly wouldn't help Hailey if her uncle managed to get himself kicked out of the hospital.

Brass had never been so glad to see the young man. He didn't stop to say thank you, though. Just gave him a tight lipid smile as he walked past on the way to the curtained cubicle.

"How is she?" Nick stopped walking when he reached Greg, figuring that this initial meeting between uncle and niece should be private.

"Physically, she's not to bad. The nurse gave her a couple of stitches on the laceration on the back of her head. They hit her with something hard. Emotionally...man, that's a different story. She blames herself for what happened." Greg shook his head tiredly.

"That's ridiculous," Nick protested. "How can any of this be her fault? She's just a kid."

"Got me. She thinks it is, though. Nothing I've said to her has changed her mind. Maybe Brass'll have better luck." Hailey hadn't spoken at all on the ride to the hospital. When she finally did, it was words of guilt and self blame.

"Why don't we go get some coffee? It's gonna be a long night."

There was a thin curtain separating the exam room from the main hallway. Brass swept it aside. Hailey was sitting on the bed facing away from him. There was a square of gauze taped to the bottom of her head, just above her neck. She was wearing a blue scrubs top, her shirt having been bagged at the scene for evidence collection.

"Oh, baby girl." It was a name he had not called her in years, not since she had turned ten and decided that the endearment was 'uncool.'

Hailey turned her head to look at him, and the look in her eyes was enough to make him want to cry. She looked lost and broken. It was a look he saw all too often on the job, but only once before had he seen it coming from this girl. He had sworn then that he would never see it again. And here it was. Shaking his head to clear away old memories, he sidestepped the bed to stand in front of her. At five seven, she was almost as tall as he was, but he easily picked her up. Settling into a chair he didn't say a word, just held her in his lap like he had years ago. Then, he had rocked her when she had awoken from a nightmare. Now, the nightmare was real.

She didn't cry, wasn't ready yet to give into the tears. Couldn't talk, either, though she knew she needed to tell her story. She simply sat, her head buried against her uncle's jacket, her legs bent at an awkward angle. Growing up with only a mom, he was the closest thing she had to a dad. She drew strength from his presence, and knew that she could make it at least a little while longer without falling apart.

"She was wearing black Capri's and a purple tank top with gold glitter on it. Black Sketchers with pink laces, no socks. Her hair is blond, straight, and long." Catherine had wiped away the tears the moment Detective Fellows approached her, standing to greet him.

In an instant she seemed to pull herself together, becoming the competent CSI she usually was, instead of a distraught parent. Warrick stood behind her, one hand gently resting on her shoulder as she answered the questions she was more used to asking. He knew he should be helping Sara to look for evidence, but he couldn't make himself leave Catherine to face the detective alone.

Gil Grissom parked his Tahoe next to the one the other CSIs had arrived in not long ago. He walked directly to the scene, taking everything in at once to create a mental picture. Catherine was occupied with the detective, so Grissom headed toward Sara first.

"Find anything?" he asked as he walked up behind her. She didn't turn around at the sound of his voice, but was relieved to hear it. Maybe it was naive or childish of her, but knowing that he was here made her feel a little better. If there was a clue to find, Grissom would find it.

"Not much, so far," she finally replied. "Lindsey's purse is the only thing I can positively identify. A piece of gum, a receipt, and a torn business card. Could be clues, or just proof of too many litterbugs. I've bagged everything between the bench and the street so far."

He nodded, knowing that he really didn't need to question her. Sara was thorough on every case. On this one, he knew, she would be downright militant on her collection.

"I'm going to talk to Detective Fellows, and then I'll go talk to the movie theater staff, see if they saw anything." Grissom walked away without waiting for a response. Sara scanned the area for a third time, and was rewarded with something she hadn't noticed before. Lying in the gutter, hidden by a stray leaf, was a brightly colored piece of plastic. On closer inspection, it proved to be a casino chip. Written in silver on the small disc were the words 'Rampart Casino.'

"She'll need to be checked for signs of a concussion. You will need to wake her up every two hours to make sure she's responsive. The nurse will give you a list of things to look for. Other then that, she just needs to make an appointment with her regular doctor in two weeks to have the stitches removed." The doctor had arrived ten minutes after Brass, and proclaimed Hailey well enough to go home. Hailey hadn't acknowledged him, just stayed where she was while Brass asked questions and listened to instructions.

"You ready to go home, kiddo?" he asked once the doctor left. Before Hailey could answer the curtain was pulled aside once again, and Nick and Greg joined them in the exam room. Hailey quickly stood up, the part of her that was aware of her surroundings not wanting these men to see her acting like a child in need of comfort. It was foolish, but she needed to keep the illusion of being in control, at least in front of other people. She had been sitting in one place too long, though, and as she rose the muscle in her leg cramped and she stumbled. Greg was the closest to her, and caught her in a clumsy hug.

"If you wanted a hug, all you had to do was ask. No need to get all dramatic," he teased. Hailey didn't smile, but she did manage to roll her eyes. Greg took it as a good sign.

"Hey, if your giving away hugs, can I get one too?" Nick also tried to keep his tone light. Hailey willingly entered his embrace. When he released her, Nick took the time to slowly examine her, noting the bruise on her cheek where she hit the ground, the bandage, and the too rigid posture.

"I believe I'm the only one of us who has a vehicle here, so if everyone's ready I'll drive to the lab. Grissom should be there soon, to interview Hailey." Nick withdrew a set of keys from his pocket, more then ready to leave the hospital.

Brass fought a brief internal battle. The cop in him knew that Nick was right. They needed to go to work and find out whatever they could about Lindsey's captors. As Hailey's uncle, however, he wanted to refuse. Demand that Nick drop them off at home so that he could convince Hailey to sleep and do whatever else he could to take care of her. Maybe it was the influence of too many years on the job, but Captain Brass won over Uncle Jimmy.

"Alright, Nick. Let's go." Brass reached out to wrap an arm around Hailey's shoulder, while Greg stood a hair's breadth away from her on the other side. Nick led the way out of the hospital and into the black night.

"Catherine." Grissom waited until she finished talking to Fellows before approaching her. His interview with the theater employees had proved fruitless, but he had collected the tapes from their surveillance system, as well as those from two other stores that faced the parking lot.

Catherine looked up from the cup of coffee Warrick had just brought her. She hadn't drunk any yet, just watched the steam rise into the air. Grissom reached out a hand to touch her shoulder. A casual move for most people, a huge show of support coming from him.

"Nick just called. He's on his way to the station with Hailey and Brass. I'm going there now, to do the interview." He hoped that the knowledge that there was something happening would help her.

"Is she okay?" It was more habit than anything else that had her asking.

"She'll be fine," he reassured.

"I don't understand, Gil. Who would do this? Why would someone do this? Why Lindsey?" She had this sudden flash from a few hours ago, of the two girls sitting in the back seat of the car, cajoling her to see a rated R movie. If only she could go back there and say 'yes, you can go.' She could have bought three tickets, and watched the movie with them. Taken them out to dinner afterwards. Driven them home on her way to work. If only.

"I don't know, Cath. Not yet." He would, though, he silently promised.

"I might," a voice behind them commented. The two friends turned around to face Sara, who had finished searching the scene.

"Does this mean anything to either of you?" Sara handed Catherine the clear plastic bag with the Rampart Casino chip inside. Catherine stared at the silver lettering in shock, and almost dropped her coffee. It could be a coincidence, but it could be everything.

To be continued...


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8- Interviews

They beat Grissom to the lab. By silent agreement, the three men chose to avoid the interrogation rooms and instead headed towards the break room. Greg parted ways with them at the doorway, heading towards the DNA lab and his secret stash of coffee beans. If ever a time called for the restorative powers of Blue Hawaiian, it was now.

He returned to the break room ten minutes later with four mugs filled to the brim. Hailey was curled up in the corner of the couch, her legs pulled up protectively in front of her. Brass had pulled one of the chairs away from the table and placed it directly in front of the couch, where he sat watching Hailey intently, as if she might disappear if he dared to even blink. Nick was pacing from one end of the room to the other, glancing at the pair of Brasses every once in a while.

"Please tell me that's not the lab's sludge." Nick stopped in mid stride and eyed Greg's offering.

"Nope. I threw that junk down the drain, where it is probably eating away at the pipes as we speak. This is the primo stuff." He handed Nick one of the mugs as he spoke, and set his own down on the table. Wordlessly he gave the third one to Brass.

"It already has five thousand spoonfuls of sugar, and a gallon of cream," Greg told Hailey as he gave the last mug to the discomposed teen. It had become a joke between them, in the last month, the amount of sugar and cream she insisted on adding to her coffee. Greg, the connoisseur, didn't believe in adding anything to alter the taste of his brew.

"Thanks," she managed to say, taking hold of the mug and clasping it between her hands. The sudden heat against her freezing hands shocked her, causing her to tremble and tip the mug, sending scalding coffee into her lap.

"Damn it!" she exclaimed, jumping up as the coffee seeped through her pants and onto her skin. Brass also jumped up, while Nick and Greg rushed to either side of her.

"Are you okay?" they all asked at the same time.

"I'm fine," Hailey said as she tried ineffectually to brush away the wet stain.

"I think I have sweats in my locker, if you want to change," Greg offered.

"No." What did she care if her pants were wet and the skin underneath was sore? Not even the throbbing pain at the back of her head was worth mentioning. She was here, in the safety of the CSI lab, surrounded by people she knew. Lindsey was out there, in the dark, scared, alone, maybe hurt, maybe... A little pain was no more then she deserved, wasn't it?

Brass was about to insist that Hailey change, when the population of the room increased by two. Grissom and Sara were back from the scene.

"Hey, any chance there's more where that came from?" Sara gestured at the coffee mugs.

"Sure thing." Greg left the room once again, glad to have something to do.

"Here's another cup with too much sugar," he said when he returned. The second mug he gave to Grissom, who blinked in surprise at the gesture. "And one for the boss man."

"Nick, why don't you go see which interview room is free." Grissom was impatient to begin. The sooner they had all the facts, the faster they could progress.

"We don't need a room," Sara disseminated. "This will work fine."

She caught Grissom's eye, trying to silently communicate with him. The break room, with its more familiar and relaxed atmosphere would be less traumatizing for the teenage witness then the impersonal interrogation rooms on the other side of the building. She had been through enough already, without adding cold metal chairs, sterile walls and two way mirrors into the mix. Grissom nodded, understanding at least some of what she was thinking.

"Greg, I need you in DNA. I don't want anyone but you handling the evidence Sara collected." Though he was spending more and more time out in the field, Greg was still the best lab tech Grissom had ever seen. On this case, he needed the best.

"Nick, Ronnie's got a receipt and a business card. Can you see if he finds anything, and then get them to Jacquie for prints?" Nick and Greg both left the room moments later.

Brass moved to the couch, leaving Grissom the empty chair. Sara pulled a second one alongside it.

"Can you tell us what happened, Hailey?" Grissom asked, his voice gentle but full of authority.

"Where should I start?" She looked him in the eyes for the first time that day.

"Wherever you want."

"Catherine dropped us off at the theater after school..."

Catherine insisted on going straight to the Rampart after Grissom and Sara left the scene. Warrick didn't think it was a good idea, would have rather gone there by himself, or with Nick. He drove her anyway, knowing that she would go whether he approved or not, and it was better that he went with her.

She didn't stop at the front desk, didn't break her stride when the clerk tried to catch up to her, protesting that the elevator she was heading for was for employees only. Catherine pressed the 'up' button, and without turning around spoke to the perturbed woman. She could always pull out her ID and claim that she was on a case. It wasn't far from the truth. There was an easier way.

"Call Mr. Braun. Tell him that Catherine Willows is on her way up to see him."

"Mr. Braun is not seeing anyone today. His schedule is full," the clerk insisted.

"He'll see me." She was done wasting her time, and walked into the elevator without any additional explanation. Warrick shrugged at the woman before following Catherine into the elevator. He felt sorry for the clerk, a little. She was, after all, only trying to do the job she was paid for.

Once she was sure the doors had fully closed, Catherine sank against the wall of the elevator. The brief surge of energy that had carried her through the lobby and past the front desk was depleted. She closed her eyes, rubbing the lids with the tips of her fingers.

Warrick stood in front of her, not knowing what to say to make her feel any better. The only thought he had were meaningless platitudes or possible lies. Instead of speech, he placed one of his hands on each of her upper arms. Catherine allowed herself to lean into the offered solace for an instant, resting her forehead against his shoulder. Warrick raised one of his hands to stroke the strawberry blond hair in a gesture that at any other time would have been a declaration of his feelings. For now, he only meant to let her know of his support.

The brief elevator ride came to an end, and Catherine withdrew from the pseudo embrace. She drew back her shoulders and raised her chin, preparing for the meeting to come.

"Ready?" Warrick asked softly.

"As ready as I can be."

Sam was waiting for them when the doors slid open.

"Mugs, what a pleasant surprise." He tried to hug her as she walked out of the elevator, but she stopped just outside of his embrace.

"Sam." It was a stiff greeting, but all that she could manage.

"Mr. Brown, I believe." Sam stretched out a hand, and Warrick returned the gesture.

"Every time you bring a coworker to see me, I seem to wind up accused of something. What is it this time?" Sam's tone said he was joking, but there was a bite behind the utterance that rubbed against Catherine's already raw nerves. She opened her mouth to tell him what was happening, but closed it before anything came out. She couldn't say it again. Every time she admitted the truth out loud, it became more real. Warrick sensed her hesitation, and looked at her with a question in his eye. Catherine nodded. He didn't soft pedal the news, but simply stated the facts.

"Lindsey's been kidnapped."

The look of shock on his face was enough to convince Catherine that Sam hadn't had anything to do with it. She hadn't thought that he did, not really. Only in the deepest recesses of her heart did she believe him capable of hurting her in that way.

Sam walked over to a bar set up in the corner of the room and poured himself a drink. He downed the two fingers of whiskey in a single gulp. Gesturing, he offered the same to Catherine and Warrick. They both declined. Sam saw something in Catherine's eye, and knew for certain that she had a reason for being here.

"Your not just here to tell a grandfather that his granddaughter is missing. There's something else, isn't there?"

"We found a casino chip from here, which seems like more then a coincidence, given your connection to Lindsey." Warrick continued to do the talking for the both of them.

Sam clenched his jaw and swore silently. If this had happened to Lindsey because of him, he would never forgive himself. If it had, and he found out who was responsible, they would pay. Not in the neat manner of the justice system, with drawn out court cases and longer prison sentences. No, he would be the one dispensing the justice

"What can I do to help?" This time when he reached out, Catherine allowed herself to be pulled into his embrace.

"I don't know," she said, her voice muffled.

"R14. I didn't catch all of the license plate, but that was how it started. The van was black, one of those kinds that doesn't have any windows in the back. Lindsey and I joked that it was a surveillance van, and Uncle Jimmy was having us tailed." Hailey spoke in a monotone, giving the facts of the crime without betraying any of her emotions. She stared straight ahead, looking occasionally at Grissom or Sara, but refusing to make eye contact with her uncle. His hand covered hers, and she left it there, but any more and she might not be able to continue. Brass seemed to understand, and remained silent throughout the interview. It was hard, especially when she told of being held by one of the assailants and struggling to free herself. His other hand, the one hidden from Hailey's view, was clenched into a fist. Five minutes with the man once they found him, that was all he asked.

"Did any of the men talk?" Grissom asked. He had only asked a few questions so far, usually to clarify something Hailey said.

"Only one of them, the man who grabbed Lindsey. Said something about 'the blond one' being who they wanted. That was when they dragged her towards the van." Hailey closed her eyes, experiencing it again. The wide eyed terror on Lindsey's face, her arms and legs flailing. Her own fight to free herself. The salty taste of skin as she bit down on her captor's hand. The throbbing pain as something hit the back of her head.

"Can I go use the bathroom?" she asked, aiming her request at Grissom.

"Of course." Grissom nodded, moving his chair back so she would have room to get past him.

Hailey calmly walked out of the room, waiting until she had rounded the corner to start running. She barely made it in time, flinging open the door to one of the stalls and landing on her knees before emptying her stomach contents into the toilet. A single tear fell down her clammy cheek. When she was sure she wouldn't throw up again, she flushed the toilet and stood up.

As best as she could, Hailey rinsed the offensive taste out of her mouth, making a cup with her hands and filling it with water from the sink. In a similar fashion she washed her face, running her wet hands along the back of her sweaty neck. Reluctantly she looked in the mirror above the sink. The face that greeted her was unfamiliar. It was not the face of Hailey Brass, a confident punk fourteen year old girl. The look in her eyes was not one she had seen in years. Not since the last time her world fell apart. She looked young, scared, and out of control.

"Damn it, not again." Hailey punctuated her words with a fist, hitting the wall hard enough to scrape her knuckles.

"A word of advice, when wall and flesh meet, the wall usually wins." Sara was standing in the doorway, watching as Hailey once again turned on the water and let it flow over her bleeding hand.

"Uh, thanks," Hailey muttered, embarrassed at being caught with her guard down. Sara walked closer, reaching out for the hand to examine it.

"Come on, let's go put some antiseptic on this."

"I don't want to go back into..." She didn't want to have to explain to anyone, especially her uncle, how she had managed to injure her hand.

"Don't worry. Griss has a first aid kit is his office. No one is in there." She led the way down the hall, taking a detour so they didn't pass by the break room.

Sara waited until the door was closed behind them and the Neosporin was in her hand before asking about the exclamation she had overheard in the bathroom.

"What did you mean, when you said 'not again'?" she questioned soberly, as she rubbed the cream onto each knuckle.

A look of panic flickered across Hailey's face as she tried to come up with a reply, an easy lie to cover up the truth she refused to speak of. "I... I didn't... I just..."

"You don't have to explain, if you don't want to." If anyone understood the need to keep things secret, it was Sara. There were things you didn't want other people to know, afraid they would look at you differently if they found out.

Hailey gave Sara a look of gratitude at her understanding.

To be continued...


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: For everyone whose asked about Hailey's past, here we go.

Chapter 9- Can't escape the past

Sara and Hailey walked back into the break room, Hailey with her right hand stuck in the pocket of her pants. Brass was the only one waiting for them.

"Grissom's in the AV lab, going over the surveillance tapes. He said that he'd call if he had anymore questions, but you gave him a lot to work with. You have a CSI's eye for details, you know that kid?" He pulled her into a hug. Hailey pulled her hand out of its hiding spot and returned the embrace.

"Another ten years, you could come work for Grissom. That is, unless you want to work for me." He was only half joking. It had impressed him, the clear detail she had been able to recall. Not just what she saw, but sounds and smells too. As much as she beat herself up, her reactions had been good instincts. He had cheered silently when she had spoken of biting the hand clamped over her mouth. Brass hoped the wound got infected.

"I have to go get a couple of things from my office, and then we can get out of here. You want to come with me?"

"I'd rather go say bye to Greg and Nick, if that's alright."

"Whatever you want to do is fine. I'll come find you when I'm done. Don't leave the lab." It was an unnecessary warning, but he had to say it anyway. He was still reluctant to let her out of his sight, but admonished himself. This was probably one of the safest places she could be.

Hailey left the room, walking in the direction of the DNA lab. Brass also started down the hallway, Sara joining him on the walk. He didn't speak to her, expecting her to enter any one of the labs they passes on the way. She didn't stop until they reached his office, where she paused in the doorway.

"I think you're lost, Sara. The doorway you usually hang out in is to the office with all the bugs in it. This is my office." He was trying desperately to keep the illusion that he was the same in-control, wry humored man he always was. Sara saw through his defenses. She walked farther into the room, sitting in one of the two chairs in front of his desk.

"It okay to admit your shaken up, Jim. We all are." Sara found it ironic that not too long ago Brass had been the one trying to get her to open up about her problems. She had been annoyed, but secretly appreciative of the concern. Now it was her turn to repay the favor.

"I'm fine. Just need to collect my briefcase so I can take Hailey home." He was sorting through papers on his desk, not really noticing if they were ones he needed or not.

"What happened to Hailey, before?" Sara hadn't wanted to press Hailey for details, but felt the need to ask Brass for answers.

"What do you mean?" It wasn't a question he was prepared for, and he dropped the papers in his hand to look up at her. There was a knowing expression on her face. She might not know the details, but he had a feeling they would not surprise her.

"She said something in the bathroom, about this happening again." Sara had only meant to peak into the bathroom, to make sure Hailey was okay. The sight of the teen staring at herself in the mirror, nursing the bleeding hand, had been too much to resist. Sara saw herself, twenty years ago, and couldn't walk away.

"She said that?" Sara nodded her confirmation. "Shit. I was afraid of that."

"You don't have to tell me, but I think I can help her if I know what's going on."

Grimily Brass nodded. He was tempted to open his bottom desk drawer and reach for the bottle of bourbon he kept there. Thoughts of the scared teen waiting for him to take her home stopped his hand.

"I was fourteen years old when Lauren was born. From the time she could walk, she followed me everywhere. Both of our parents worked, so during the weekdays it was just the two of us. Jimmy's Shadow, my friends called her. Even when I moved out, I came home almost every weekend to see her. Catherine reminds me of her sometimes. Beautiful and intelligent, with the world's worst taste in men. Lauren won a scholarship to NYU, where she studied language. Then in the middle of her junior year she came to visit me..."

_"Daddy, daddy, guess what?" Ellie ran to him the moment he walked in the front door. Brass caught her up in a hug, twirling her around in a circle before settling her on his hip._

_"What, pumpkin?" he asked._

_"Auntie Lauren is here. She camed this mornin' and she's gonna spend the night." She spoke with the slightest lisp._

_"Is that right?" He made sure to keep his tone light, but he couldn't keep the frown off of his face. Lauren was an immaculate planner. If she was going to visit, she would call at least a week in advance. Showing up without warning was totally out of character for her, and it worried him._

_"I hope its okay, Jimmy. I don't want to impose." She was sitting on the couch, her dark hair pulled back in a pony tail, her face devoid of makeup. She looked like she was about twelve._

_"Don't be an idiot. You are always welcome here, sis." He set Ellie down, watching as she ran down the hall and slammed her bedroom door behind her. Taking a few steps, he settled into the armchair facing the couch. "What's going on?"_

_"I just needed to get away for a couple of days, take a break from all the studying. I thought I'd come see my big brother." She wouldn't look him in the eye, a sure sign that the words coming from her mouth weren't the whole truth._

_"Bullshit." He raised her chin with his fingers, dismayed to see bloodshot eyes with dark circles underneath. "You never could lie to me, kid. What's wrong?"_

_Lauren sighed._

_"I'm in trouble, Jimmy."_

"Her bastard of a boyfriend had gotten her pregnant, and when she told him, his response was to give her money to 'take care of the problem.'" Brass was no longer seated in his chair, but was pacing behind the desk like a wild animal captured in a cage. Sara watched in silence, letting him vent.

"She lived with our parents until Hailey was a year old. By that time my marriage had fallen apart, and we rented a two bedroom apartment together. It made sense. I helped out with Hailey, baby-sat when I had the time. Lauren took care of the house and forced me to eat actual meals. Then, when Hailey was six, I got the job offer here. I moved, Lauren stayed. Soon after I left she met Bruce. They got married, had a baby, and for a while everything was great."

_"Is this Mr. James Brass?" The voice wasn't familiar, and Brass was tempted to hang up on whoever it was. He had just gotten off a double, and the phone had started to ring just as he had fallen asleep._

_"Yes. Whatdayouwan?" he growled._

_"I'm calling from St Thomas Hospital in Newark. You are listed as next of kin for Lauren Santi."_

_He was instantly awake, jolting up into a sitting position. "What happened to Lauren?"_

_"Police were called to a domestic disturbance call. She's pretty beat up, but she's going to be fine."_

_Fucking Bastard. Bruce Santi had better turn himself in, or hide real well. If he was still around when Jim got off the plane..._

_"...little girl is with social services." The woman was still talking, but Jim had missed most of what she said._

_"Say that again."_

_"I said, Mr. Brass, that the little girl Hailey has been taken to emergency housing by a social service worker, since there doesn't seem to be any family locally to take her."_

_He hate to think of her in foster care, even if it was just for the day until he got there. His parents were both dead, though, and he couldn't think of another option. Suddenly, it occurred to him. She had said that Hailey was in foster care._

_"Where is Kelsey?" He had only met her twice, once when she was born, and then when he spent a week in Jersey last Christmas. She was two year old now, and talking up a storm from what Lauren told him. Living two thousand miles away meant he had to rely on the phone to keep in touch._

_"I'm sorry, sir. Kelsey Santi was found at the bottom of a flight of stairs. She died before the ambulance arrived."_

_Oh God, oh God. Forget police protection, forget hiding. He would kill Bruce for this. He tried to swallow his anger, to focus on what was important. He needed to get to Lauren and Hailey._

_He didn't remember the rest of the conversation, or the call to the airport for a plane ticket. He was coherent enough to call the lab and let them know he was taking personal leave._

_"Gil, its Brass. I need you to play supervisor for a couple of nights."_

Sara was sitting in the locker room, forearms braced against her legs, head bowed. She had been sitting like that since she had left Brass's office. He had departed first, as much to escape the haunting memories as to find Hailey and take her home. Sara had made her way here, needing a few minutes before she returned to work. Learning Hailey's story had shaken her. Some of the details were so familiar, not from domestic cases she had worked as a CSI. No, they reminded her all too much of her own childhood. So she sat in the dim locker room, trying to clear her head. She couldn't risk an unfocused mind. Not on this case.

"Sara?"

She didn't look up at the sound of her name being spoken in that concerned tone, didn't raise her eyes until he joined her on the bench, so close that their thighs were almost touching.

"Hey, Griss. I was just about to go to trace, see if Hodges has found anything." She started to stand, pasting a smile on her face. Grissom stopped her with a hand on her arm.

"If you need to take a breather, it's okay. Relax for a minute. I just wanted to make sure your doing alright." He was watching her carefully, trying to read the emotions he saw in her eyes.

"I'm the last person you need to be worrying about. Worry about Lindsey and Hailey. Worry about Brass and Catherine. Personally, I'm thinking the people who really should be worried are the assholes who have Lindsey. I sure wouldn't want to be in their shoes when we find them." She was feeling calmer now, Grissom's presence working its magic. Somehow, he had this ability to make her calmer and more energized at the same time.

"I can worry about all of them, and still be concerned about you."

"Thanks, but I'm fine. Really." Every once in a while, he knew just the right thing to say to her.

"I'll come with you to trace, then. Hodges will bother you less if I give him one of my glares."

Sam sat at his desk, rubbing a casino chip with his fingers. Red and silver, it's the same kind they found at the crime scene. His granddaughter's crime scene. He didn't know her well, and it was his own fault. He had screwed things up, first with Velma, then with Catherine. Ironically, he had lost his relationship with Catherine when she found out that he was really her father. He swore that he would fix things, if it was the last thing he did. He hit the intercom button that would connect him with his assistant in the outer office.

"Max, I need a printout of anyone who owes us more then five thousand dollars, at any of our casinos. I also need a list of everyone who has filed a lawsuit against us in the last five years." No guarantee that the people he was looking for would be on either list, but it was a start.

Catherine entered her house through the garage door, walking into the kitchen. She hadn't wanted to come home, had refused Grissom's suggestion when he first made it. Then Warrick had pointed out that they were going to need a better picture then Lindsey's last year school photo, and Catherine had reluctantly agreed to make the trip. She wasn't going to go to sleep, though. No matter what Warrick or Grissom or Nick said, that wasn't going to happen.

There was a picture on the fridge that she would take in. It was a candid shot, one that she had taken just a few weeks ago. Lindsey was in front of the computer, most likely chatting with friends on the internet. Catherine had been trying to finish up a roll of film, and had cajoled her daughter into turning away from the screen for a moment. The expression on Lindsey's face was stereotypical teen, one of those 'my mother is insane, but I have to humor her' looks. It was a perfect picture, allowing her daughter's personality to show.

Although she refused to sleep, Catherine decided that it would be a good idea to take a hot shower and change clothes. She filled the coffee pot before heading for the bathroom, adding an extra scoop to the filter in hopes that the additional caffeine would make up for the lack of sleep. Walking down the hall, she passed by the closed door to Lindsey's bedroom. The door was covered in bumper stickers and posters, proclaiming Lindsey's taste in music, movies, TV shows, and fashion. Catherine rarely entered the room, believing that everyone needed their own space. Her mother had never given her the same consideration, part of the reason she insisted on respecting Lindsey's space.

She needed to connect to her daughter now, so she reached for the door knob and turned it, pushing her other hand against a Green Day poster. The door swung open, revealing a room with walls considerably more bare then the last time Catherine had seen them. It concerned her for a moment, until she recalled a conversation from a couple of days ago. _ Hailey's uncle let her paint her room. Can I do mine? I'll do the work, all you have to do is buy the stuff. _ Lindsey must have taken her noncommittal 'maybe' more positively then she had meant it if she was already preparing her room for paint. At any other time Catherine would have smiled, knowing full well that it was her own strong will that she had passed on to her daughter that made her so stubborn. As she sank onto the twin bed she offered up a brief but intense prayer, that Lindsey's stubbornness would help her now, wherever she was.

To be continued...


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10- Unexpected visitors

She was the last person he expected to see when he answered the door. It had been more then three years since he had last seen her and not a word since then.

"Hello, Ellie."

"Hi Dad." She was thinner now, and her blond hair was dyed an unnatural looking black color. Her skin was pale, as if was never exposed to natural light and he hated to think about what she was doing that kept her out of the sun.

"What are you doing here?" It was out before he could stop himself, but he had to know.

"Gee, it's nice to see you too." Her arms were crossed in front of her.

"That's not how I meant it. I'm just a bit surprised. Last time you were in town, you didn't exactly seek me out." Last time she had been in town her greeting had been a wad of spit on his badge.

"Whatever. And for your information, I'm here to see Hailey. She called me yesterday, and I wanted to make sure she's okay. Didn't sound great on the phone."

For the first time, Brass noticed the duffel bag at her feet.

"I didn't know the two of you talked." As far as he knew, Ellie didn't keep in touch with any family member. Not her mom and certainly not him.

"No big surprise there. There's a lot about me you don't know."

Three minutes and the accusations start. They were right on par.

"So, can I come in, or you gonna make me stay out here?" She picked up her bag, and without waiting for his answer walked into the house. Brass was left holding the door, starring out at the empty street. He closed it with exaggerated care, giving himself an extra few moments to gain some semblance of composure before facing his daughter. He was spared any more awkward attempts at conversation when Hailey entered the room.

"Ellie!" She was across the room in seconds, and now stood wrapped in the arms of her cousin. There was a smile on her face, the first one Jim had seen since this whole ordeal began.

"Hey, brat," Ellie greeted Hailey once the hug ended. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too. So much."

"Love the hair, by the way," Ellie noted as she brushed her hand through the maraschino cherry red locks.

"Wish I could say the same for your hair. Black is not your color, El." They were always honest with each other, had been since the beginning.

Ellie threw back her head and laughed a deep, true sound.

"Still a smart ass. Glad to see you haven't changed." It was a relief to hear the sassy intonation in her voice. Ellie had left her L.A. apartment within an hour of her cousin's phone call, spending the night on a bus to get to Vegas as soon as she could. Hailey's voice on the phone had sounded almost fragile, and that was not a word she was use to using to describe

her. Ellie was worried enough that she was willing to face her dad, to be able to check on Hailey.

Brass watched the two girls as Ellie pulled Hailey into the kitchen, claiming that she was 'starving' after her trip. Someone who didn't know any better would think that they were sisters, both in the way they looked and acted. He forgot, most of the time that they weren't even biologically related. He let himself forget, he admitted. Despite everything, Ellie was his daughter; DNA be damned.

He followed them into the kitchen, stopping just outside the doorway to observe the scene before him. Ellie had pulled a rubber band out from somewhere, and her long hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She had already pilfered the fridge, as evidenced by the selection of meat and cheese that lay on the counter next to a loaf of bread and a bottle of mustard.

"Watcha craving, brat? Turkey or ham?" Ellie reached for the bread, laying it out on the counter and looking inquiringly at her cousin.

"I'm not really hungry. Think I'll stick with the juice."

It wasn't until that moment that Brass realized that he had yet to see Hailey eat anything. She didn't eat at the hospital, and only drank coffee at the lab. When they had arrived home she had claimed exhaustion and headed straight for bed. He was about to point this out when Ellie

interceded, unknowingly speaking for him.

"I didn't ask if you were hungry. I am, and I don't feel like eating alone. So what'll it be?" She purposely made herself sound vexed, sensing that it was a better method of getting Hailey to eat.

"Turkey, I guess."

Brass waited until Ellie made the sandwich and Hailey began to eat before interrupting.

"I'm going to the lab for a while. Will you guys be okay alone?" As much as he wanted to stay with Hailey, he felt that he needed to be helping to work Lindsey's case. Ellie's surprise visit meant he could leave for a while without feeling guilty, or insisting that Hailey come with him.

"Don't worry. We'll just get drunk, then I'll sell the brat to some wandering Gypsies before stealing anything of value you have." Ellie glared at Brass, her snide comment hard and biting. If their relationship was better, he might have been able to joke with her, reminding her of the time that she _had_ tried to sell her baby cousin; she was trying to earn money for a pair of skates, and decided that two year old Hailey was worth about five dollars. As it was, he let the comment slide.

"You'll call, if you find out anything?" Hailey put down the sandwich and turned to her uncle, a pleading look in her eyes.

"The moment I know anything, I promise."

II

Catherine woke with a start, hitting her head on the wall as she rolled to her side. She groaned, forcing herself to open her eyes. Shit. She had fallen asleep on Lindsey's bed. The glowing red numbers of the clock radio on the bedside table informed her that she had lost five hours. Hours that she could have been doing something, anything, to help find her daughter. Valuable time, lost.

The doorbell rang, long and insistently, and Catherine realized that the sound was probably what had awoken her. She made her way out of the bedroom, giving it one last look before she turned and walked to the front door. Desperately, she hoped that whoever it was had news about Lindsey. _If it's Avon, they won't need blush to color their cheeks when I'm through _

_talking to them._

He was the last person she expected, though in retrospect she wasn't really surprised.

"Hello, Sam."

"How are you holding up?" He looked her over carefully, but didn't attempt to touch her. Catherine shrugged, unable to find the words to expresses her emotions.

"I brought some information I thought might help." He handed her a manila envelope. Resigned, he took a step back and started to move towards the limo waiting in the driveway.

"I miss you." Catherine's statement stopped him in mid step. He turned, surprise evident on his face.

"I didn't know that."

"I'm still angry and confused, when I think of everything you've done and lied about. Right now, though, I miss the man who used to take me out to dinner for my birthday and tuck me into bed on nights when he was too tired to drive home.'" She was leaning against the door frame, arms wrapped around herself. Sam took a few steps forward.

"I am that man, Mugs. A little tarnished, maybe, but still him."

"I don't know if I can believe that. Too much has happened in the past few years. Right now, though, I don't care. Can we push it all aside, deal with it later? For now, can we go back to being Sam and his best girl?" As much as she hated the things the man before her had done, she still loved him. He was the father she never had, except that it turned out that he really was her father. She needed him, right now, to be that man again.

"As much or as little as you need, Catherine. I'm here."

"How about we start with a ride to the lab, so I can take these in?" She held up the envelope in her hand.

"Certainly." He wrapped one of his arms around her shoulder, kissing the top of her head before leading her to the black limo.

II

"Grissom, I think I have something." Sara walked into the AV lab, where Warrick and Grissom were still going through surveillance tapes. They had been working nonstop all night, none of them willing to take a break. Grissom turned from the screen at the sound of Sara's voice. After hours of tape showing nothing useful, he needed some good news.

"I finally got hold of someone at Belhurtz, Jenkins and Smyth." Grissom raised his eyebrow, recognizing the name as being that of the law firm whose business card was found at the scene. He waited in silence for Sara to continue.

"I had them look up some relevant names to see if anyone in our case is a client of theirs, or involved in any case they're working. Catherine's name didn't come up, and neither did Brass's. On a hunch I had them run a couple of other names, and one set off bells and whistles. Sam Braun has the firm on retainer." There was a glow of triumph in her eyes. She had figured out a piece of the puzzle.

"Good job, Sara. Let's have him come in."

"He's already here." Catherine stood in the doorway, the man in question beside her.

To be continued...


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11 "It's my fault"

_Someone was crying. The sound grew in volume until it was all she could hear. Hailey found herself standing at the top of a set of stairs, listening intently to the sobbing, trying to figure out where it was coming from. Tentatively she took a step down, and then another, aware that the sound was increasing with each move she made. As much as she walked, she didn't seem to be getting any closer to the source of the crying. So she ran. Faster and faster, not caring if she tripped and fell, only aware of the fact that someone was in trouble and she had to get to them. Finally her speed paid off, and she reached the last step._

_Kelsey. Kelsey was the one crying, but that wasn't right. Kelsey was dead, so how could she be crying? Hailey watched, frozen on the bottom stair. Kelsey wasn't making a sound. The crying was coming from Hailey. A younger version of herself, sitting on the ground, clasping her baby sister in her arms. It wasn't a dream, wasn't a nightmare. Hailey was stuck in a memory. This was the worst day of her life, a day she had tried to block out of her mind. She watched as her younger self rocked slowly back and forth, singing a lullaby to the limp form of her sister. _'Hush little baby, don't say a word...'_ She had only been nine, but she had known, somehow, that Kelsey was forever gone._

_Reluctant to get any closer, Hailey none the less felt compelled to move. She took a step closer, and then another, kneeling down on the ground beside the two little girls. She reached out her hand to brush the stray hairs out of Kelsey's round face. She looked just like she was sleeping, except for the blank stare. Young Hailey turned to look at her, eyes carrying the same _

_haunted look Hailey had seen in the mirror yesterday. "Mama told me to look after her. I promised her I would. You always have to look after the ones you love." Hailey looked down to see her sister again, but she was gone. In her place, Lindsey was laying on the ground. Her eyes were open, the same dead expression in them that she had seen in Kelsey's eyes._

She couldn't go back to sleep. Couldn't risk closing her eyes and seeing Kelsey or Lindsey again. Picking up her robe from the end of the bed where she had thrown it the night before, Hailey wrapped the soft blue chenille around herself and left the nightmare drenched room behind. She didn't turn on any lights as she walked down the hallway. As she passed by the living room she noted that the couch was empty. Her uncle must still be at work. Before leaving he had insisted that Ellie take his bedroom to sleep in, that he would use the couch when, if, he got home. Hopefully his absence was a good sign.

When she reached the kitchen Hailey turned on the dim light above the stove and set the burner underneath the tea pot to high. Maybe a mug of chamomile tea would help to calm the adrenaline in her system. She was not enough of an optimist to believe that it would work to erase the images flashing behind her eyes. Hearing a sound behind her, Hailey didn't turn around but instead reached for a second mug.

"Would you like some tea, El?"

"Hell no. Don't see how you can drink that stuff. Bunch of dried flowers and hot water. Not for me." Ellie wrinkled her nose as she opened the door to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of Flat Tire Ale. Of the many things she could hold against her dad, at least he didn't buy any sissy lite beers. "You want one of these?"

"Hell no. Don't see how you can drink that stuff," Hailey mimicked, laughing. It was a slightly forced sound, but it still felt good.

"So what are you doing up at three in the morning, brat?" Ellie used the weight of her arms resting on the counter to pull herself up onto its ledge.

Hailey busied herself finding a tea bag and the plastic honey bear before answering.

"I had a dream," she stated, trying to make less of it then it was.

"A nightmare," Ellie clarified, knowing her cousin.

"A nightmare," Hailey admitted. "I saw Kelsey. It looked just like that night when Bruce... I couldn't protect her, Ellie, and I didn't protect Lindsey either. This is all my fault."

"Bullshit." Ellie set down her beer and slid off of the counter. She tugged at Hailey's arm until they were facing each other.

"If I thought that was really how you felt, I'd have to smack you upside the head. Nothing that is happening is your fault. Not now, and not then. Bruce is a murdering bastard, and if there really is such thing as karma, he's currently the girlfriend of some convict named Butch. The people who kidnapped your friend are bastards, and I hope to God that they pay for what they did. You are an innocent victim, who happened to get caught up in a world with too many bad guys. None of this is your fault. None of it." She watched her cousin closely, looking for any sign that she was accepting what she was hearing. There was still doubt in her eyes.

"Blaming yourself isn't what Kelsey would want, and it's not going to help your friend. The world is full of bastards, most of the male population as a matter of fact, and all we can do is acknowledge that fact and stay away from them as much as possible."

"Not all men are that bad." Hailey understood where Ellie was coming from, but still felt that she had to argue the point.

"Yeah? Name five men who aren't out to use the people around them and then throw them away." It was a pointless argument, but Ellie was more then willing to continue. She was just relieved to see the last vestiges of nightmare disappear from the brown eyes facing her.

"Greg, Warrick, Nick, Grissom, and Uncle Jimmy," Hailey replied.

"Fine. I concede the point. Maybe there are some good guys out there. If you've managed to find that many, it just goes to prove what I've been saying. You're a good person, if those are the kind of people you connect with." She thought about the people that waited for her in LA, and questioned once again what kind of person she was. Hookers and drug dealers, those were her friends. That was who she was. Hailey, she would make sure, would never become like her.

"I'm older then both of them. I should have been able to do something." Hailey could understand, on a rational level, that neither tragedy was her own fault. Her heart was not convinced.

"I'm eight years older then you. By your logic, what happened to you and Kelsey was my fault." It was mean to say, but Ellie hoped it would get her point across.

"No. Ellie, no. It was never your fault." She was shocked that Ellie would even say such a thing.

"You can't have it both ways. You either have to pass the blame on to me, or stop piling it on yourself." Hailey nodded. She still wasn't one hundred percent convinced, but their conversation had given her a lot to think about.

"I don't know about you, but I'm going to bed. Jet lag and time zone changes make me tired." She finished the last of the beer, tossing the brown bottle into the trash can on her way out of the room.

"You took a bus, and California is in the same time zone, you dork," Hailey reminded her cousin.

"Whatever."

II

"This is my fault." Everyone in the room turned to look at Sam, the looks on their faces ranging from confusion to concern to agreeance. What had started out as a meeting between Catherine, Sam, Grissom, Sara and Warrick had expanded to include Brass, Greg, Nick, Jacqui, Ronnie, and even Hodges. Everyone wanted to discuss what they had learned, and try to piece together what it meant.

"Unless you arranged to have my daughter kidnapped, this is hardly your fault." Sam was horrified at the thought, but relieved to see the trust in Catherine's eyes. On this subject, at least, she was confident of her faith in him. He was afraid her trust might be misplaced. While it was true that he never wanted anything like this to happen, his actions might prove to be the trigger that had started everything. He stared at the torn business card, protected by a layer of plastic. Smudged of black showed where it had been unsuccessfully dusted for prints.

"I do have Belhurtz, Jenkins and Smyth on retainer for my casinos, but I also use them when I personally need a lawyer."

"Have you used their services lately, outside of work?" Despite the many people in the room, it was clear that Grissom was the one asking the questions. He tried to keep his voice even, but a combination of worry, fatigue, and distrust of the man across from him made his tone more then a little harsh.

"Yes. About a month ago, I had some legal documents drawn up. Most importantly, I made a new will." This is not the way he wanted it to come out, in a room of strangers. Sam wasn't even sure how many of them had known of his relationship with Catherine before tonight. Grissom did, and it was one of the many reasons the man disliked him. Sam also suspected

that Warrick Brown was not completely surprised to learn that he was Catherine's father. There was a keen understanding in the green eyes that watched him, and if Warrick was more then just his daughter's coworker, Sam thought he might approve of the pair. He made a mental note to run a background check on the man, though, before turning his thoughts back to the current discussion.

"What did you change in your will, and how does it pertain to this case?"

"I never got around to changing my will after Tony was killed. It was too painful at the time. I am not getting any younger, though, and decided that I need to make sure the people I care about are taken care of. There are pensions for various staff, and donations to my favorite charities. The bulk of my estate, including all three casinos, my ranch, and all my stocks

and bonds, will go to Lindsey, to be held in trust until her twenty fifth birthday."

"What?" Catherine gasped, staring at Sam with her eyes wide. The check he had sent a couple of years ago had been a surprise. This was so far beyond that. She couldn't begin to think of what to say.

"I have one son in prison, the other in the ground. You and Lindsey are all that remains of my family, and I will do everything I can to make sure you are protected." He ignored all the other people present in the room, and focused on his daughter. He wasn't just talking about the money now, and he needed to make sure she knew that.

Catherine didn't know how to respond. She could take care of her daughter herself. She didn't want or need his blood money. Didn't need his guilt. She did need to maintain the fragile peace between them, though, so all she said was "It isn't necessary."

"It is to me. When I'm gone, you can sell everything, or donate it to charity, or blow it up, if that will make you feel better."

"Who knew about the changes to your will?" Warrick spoke, reminding Sam and Catherine that they weren't alone in the room. Catherine jolted at the voice, but then glanced at him, grateful to him for putting the focus back where it needed to be. He returned her gaze, comforting her without word or touch.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12 Another Goodbye

Hailey picked her clothes very carefully the next morning. She was tempted to dress all in black, but resisted the urge. It would be too much of a bad omen, like she was dressing for a funeral. Instead she went with a gray pinstriped skirt that ended just short of her knees and a red lace top that was almost the same color as her hair. A black choker with a yin yang charm dangling from it went around her neck, a dozen jelly bracelets circled one wrist, and a collection of silver hoops filled each one of the nine holes in her ears. Hailey looked in the full length mirror. Her world was falling apart, but no one would be able to tell that from looking at her.

"You ready to go, brat?" Ellie stood in the doorway, observing her cousin from behind.

"Almost." Hailey slipped into a pair of black high heeled sandals. Her uncle had never come home the night before. When she had awoken this morning and insisted that she was going to go to the lab, she had expected Ellie to protest. Instead, she had simply nodded and asked what time she wanted to leave. It was easier then she expected. What she didn't expect was the duffle bag slung over Ellie's shoulder.

"You're leaving?" She couldn't help but feel abandoned.

"I have to. More then one night spent under this roof, and bad things'll happen. Amazing I lasted this long. No, I found what I came for, and now I need to go back."

"I don't want you to go. Can't you stay a little longer?"

Ellie shook her head. "I'll go with you to the lab, but then I have a bus to catch."

II

They sat on a bench in front of the lab for ten minutes after the cab dropped them off. Ellie lit one of the cigarettes she carried in her purse, and gladly inhaled the smoke. Tobacco was the only substance she had brought with her, and it only took the edge off of her cravings. It was all she would allow herself around Hailey. She didn't want her cousin to know about the rest.

"Those things will kill you." Hailey remarked absently.

"Never planned on dying of old age." There were many risks in her life. Cigarettes were the least of her problems.

"Ellie." It was only one word, but conveyed a wealth of meaning.

"Sorry, brat. Will it make you feel better if I promise I'll try to quit?" The last thing she wanted to do was give Hailey more to worry about.

"Would you be lying?"

Ellie didn't want to disappoint, so she kept silent. Snubbing out the cigarette, she rose from the bench. "You ready to go in?"

It was strange, walking into the lab this time. Usually, there were light hearted greetings from the receptionists, followed by a visit to the DNA lab for Greg's coffee and some teasing banter. Today the faces that greeted her were as somber as her own. She walked down the hallway, Ellie at her side. They were almost to the break room before anyone spotted them.

"Hailey." Grissom came out of one of the labs, a stack of papers in one hand. "How are you? How's the head?"

"It's fine."

Grissom raised an eyebrow, but let the white lie slide. She looked

infinitely better then she had the day before.

"Does Brass know your here?" He was positive Jim would have said something if he was expecting his niece to come in.

"Not yet. I came with my cousin."

Grissom looked at the woman beside Hailey. Ellie Brass. He searched for common features, despite the fact that he was aware that they weren't really related. Ellie was tall, like her cousin, but much too thin. Grissom knew she was in her early twenties, but she looked older. She had that prematurely aged looked he recognized as the contribution of drugs, alcohol, and hard living.

"Nice to meet you, Miss Brass."

"Miss Brass?" Ellie snorted. "Now that's something I haven't heard in ages. The men I know, they ain't near so polite. This one of the guys on your list, cuz?"

"This is Dr. Grissom, night shift supervisor."

"Aww... Gruesome Grissom. You were out of town the last time I visited." She smirked as she spoke.

"I wasn't." A soft melodic voice sounded behind them. Warrick joined the small group, and gave Hailey a brief hug. "Hey, Hailey. How are you?"

"Look, its Lenny Kravitz. You still working here?" Flirting was second nature to Ellie, and she smiled at him easily. Inside she was worried. So far as she knew, Hailey didn't have a clue about her last visit to Vegas. Ellie was hoping to keep it that way.

"You've met Warrick, El?"

"Yeah, we ran into each other when she was in town a couple of years ago." Warrick answered the question first, eyeing Ellie knowingly. He wasn't sure that he liked her, but he would keep her secret.

"Was that when you were living with that creep?"

That certainly narrowed the list down. Not. Ellie knew who her cousin was talking about, though, and nodded.

"Hail-bop! Perfect timing. I just finished brewing a new pot of coffee." Greg came out of the DNA lab, mug in hand. He had poured it for himself, but when he heard the voices in the hall he loaded it up with sugar. Not like he really need more caffeine in his system anyway.

"Thanks." She accepted the offering, taking extra care not to spill it this time. Greg pressed his hand against hers, holding it there for a moment before returning to the lab.

"Any news?" Hailey hated to ask. If there was good news, someone would have shared it by now. She had to know what was happening. The lack of information left too much room in her head for worst case scenarios.

"We have some leads we're working." Grissom was the one to answer the question. He didn't know what else to say, without lying. Fortunately, Nick showed up in the hallway, sparing him the need to say anything more.

"I have those bank records pulled up, Griss. You want to come see them?" Focused on relaying the news he hoped would help break the case, he didn't notice the two additional people until he stopped talking.

"Hailey, you look better. How's the head?" He walked behind her, peering at the white gauze as if it could tell him anything about the wound underneath.

"It's fine. Really." She knew she would have to answer the same question again and again. It reminded her of her first night at the lab, and the number of people who asked her if she was lost. "What bank records? Is it something about Lindsey?"

"Come on, Nick. Show me what you have." Grissom walked away and Nick followed him. Frustrated, Hailey turned to Warrick.

"You have to give me something, 'Rick. Not knowing is driving me crazy."

"You'll know more if you let him get back to his job, kiddo." Warrick shot the homicide captain a relieved look before walking away.

"Uncle Jimmy. Tell me something, please."

"Let's go somewhere more comfortable." Warping his arm around her shoulder, he started to lead the way to the break room.

"I'm going to head out, cuz. Got a bus to catch."

"Your leaving?" Jim knew that he shouldn't be surprised. She had come, and stayed for a full day without causing problems. He always hoped for more, when it came to his daughter. More for the two of them. They hadn't even had a chance to talk. To be honest, that was probably why her visit had gone so well.

"I just came to make sure that Hailey was alright." She turned to Hailey. "You are. You have people here who care about you, and will take care of you. I don't belong here. I never have."

"Stay a little longer, Ellie. Hailey wants you here... I want you here." He knew the answer before he asked the question. He had to try.

"I have to leave. I have a life to get back to."

"What kind of life is it? Would any of them really notice if you didn't come back? Think of this as an opportunity. Stay here for a while." For just an instant, he though she might agree. If she stayed, maybe they could have a chance. He could find some way to get her clean and away from the influence of the people she called friends. They could work on a relationship. They had one, once. Until he had divorced his wife, and lost his daughter too.

Angry, at herself and her father, Ellie tightened her jaw. "No." Tugging at the straps of her duffle bag, Ellie took a step back, preparing to leave. Hailey reached out and stopped her, wrapping her arms around her in a hug.

"Take care of yourself, okay El?" Hailey could feel the tears gathering in the corner of her eyes, but refused to let them fall.

"Ditto, cuz. And call me, anytime you want. Anytime." Hailey nodded, and ducked into the break room to let the tears fall without an audience. Jim and Ellie were left alone in the hallway, starring at each other.

"Do you need money, for the bus?" Goodbyes were always awkward, theirs more then most.

"No, I'm good." She was, as long as she didn't plan on eating for the next week. However, there was no reason for him to know that.

"I'm glad you came. It meant a lot to Hailey. Not sure how she would have gotten through yesterday if you weren't here."

"She's strong. She would've got through it." Taking a few steps down the hall, she turned back. "You'll take care of her, right?"

"Me and everyone else in this lab." It was the first thing she'd asked of him in years, and he was grateful that he could say yes to her. "Can I walk you out?"

She agreed, and without asking he reached over and took the duffle bag off of her shoulder and placed it on his own. He kept it on the side farthest from Ellie, so she wouldn't notice when he unzipped the bag a few inches. As slyly as possible, he slid the contents of his wallet into the hole, and then re-zipped the bag.

"Your always welcome here, Ellie. Remember that." Standing at the entrance to the lab, he watched his daughter walk away. He didn't move until she rounded a corner and was gone from his sight.

II

"Kleenex?" Hailey had walked into the room staring at her feet, and hadn't realized that the room was already occupied. She looked up to accept the proffered tissue to find Sara watching her carefully. Although she didn't ask, Hailey felt the need to explain away the tears.

"My cousin just left. Always hard to say goodbye, 'cause I never know when I'm going to see her again."

"Is that Brass's daughter, or do you have other cousins?"

"You know Ellie too?" She was surprised so many of her uncle's coworkers had met her cousin. Ellie usually made it a point to stay as far away from law enforcement as possible. Part of it was rebellion against her father. The other part... Hailey didn't want to know.

"I met her briefly. I was busy at the time, being led on a wild goose chase by our wonderful Treasury Department," Sara remarked sarcastically.

Hailey looked down, studying her half full coffee cup as if it was a crystal ball. After a moment, she looked back at Sara. If anyone around here was going to give her a straight answer, she decided, it was the woman in front of her.

"No on has a clue where Lindsey is, do they?"

"Not yet, but we should know something soon." Sara could see the doubt is Hailey's eyes, and knew that she needed more then pat reassurances. "We're close to finding out who took her, and after that the next step is finding out where they have her."

Hailey nodded, relived to at least know something was happening. Suddenly there was a commotion in the hallway, and they both ran to the door to see what it was about. Grissom stood near the reception desk, an envelope in his hand.

"We've received a ransom letter."

To be continued…


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: Sorry for the lateness of this chapter. A combination of factors, including craziness at work (literaly: I have a kid who was hearing voices at my foster home) and a muse who was aparently mad at me. I didn't originally intend to spend any time with Lindsey, but when the muse finally struck, this is where she lead me.

Chapter 13 The Ransom

She was torn out of the temporary reprieve sleep had granted her by bright lights and gruff voices. Before her eyes had a chance to adjust to the shock something was thrust into her hands and one of the voices ordered her to 'say cheese' as she was temporarily blinded again. A pair of bright squares danced in front of her. As they faded, Lindsey could see another of the men approaching her. Without

thinking, she backed farther into the corner, trying to maintain as much distance as possible.

"Stay still, little girl." Four words, but she understood the implied 'or else' tagged on at the end. Against every instinct she had, Lindsey stopped moving. She didn't even flinch when a rough hand yanked strands of hair from her head. The sting made her eyes smart, and she blinked furiously to keep the tears from falling. She refused to let these men see her cry.

"DNA," the first man spoke. "Mommy and her friends will appreciate that." He said it sarcastically, but the words gave Lindsey hope. Her mom and Uncle Gil, along with the rest of the guys at the lab, were working to find out where she was. They were CSIs, it was what they did. They would find her.

"Hair for the scientist, ransom letter for the millionaire. Kind of poetic, don't you think?" A third man stood in the doorway, manila envelope in one hand. He was taller then the other two, his voice smoother. Lindsey would bet anything that he was the one in charge, a fact quickly confirmed when the other two men handed him the hair and picture, one of them muttering "boss."

As quickly as they came, they left again and Lindsey was once again thrust into darkness. She shifted slightly, wincing in pain when her shoulder knocked against the wall. She must have hit it when they had tossed her in the room after dragging her from the van.

Now in the silence, as Lindsey went over the few words she had heard spoken, one particular phrase stuck out. _Ransom for the millionaire_. There was only one person who fit that description. Sam. Her grandfather. Until recently he had simply been a friend of her moms, and his sole attraction was the fact that he had a stable full of horses. This summer, though, her

mom had sat her down and given her the truth. She was old enough now to understand, her mom had said. Unbeknownst to her mom, she had been to visit Sam a handful of times since then. She would show up at one of his casinos after a bus ride. He always insisted on having his limo drop her off at home afterwards. She still called him Sam. He was more then an acquaintance but not yet a grandparent. Morbidly, Lindsey wondered if he would ever have the chance to be one. No. She couldn't let herself think like that. Sam had a lot of money. He would pay whatever they asked.

Her words weren't enough to reassure herself, and Lindsey felt the tingle of fear travel up her spine. Closing her eyes against the darkness, Lindsey tried to turn off her thoughts. Maybe if she concentrated real hard, she could pretend that the fear she felt was from watching a horror film. Yeah, she was at a slumber party with Hailey, and they had just watched the _Silence of the Lambs_ trilogy. Hailey was just down the hall, using the bathroom. Any moment she would be back, and Lindsey would no longer be alone.

Focusing on her fantasy, Lindsey fell into a fitful slumber.

xxx

It was so light. That was the first thought to cross his mind. The single envelope, on which so much depended, was barely a weight in his hand. Grissom walked to the layout room, all too aware of the eyes that followed him. Everyone watched him, their hopes rest heavily on his shoulders. He donned a pair of latex gloves, more carefully then he ever had before. He couldn't risk destroying any evidence the kidnapper might have left. With a razor blade he cut a thin line above the flap and angled the envelope downward so the contents spilled onto the table. Two pieces of paper; one plain white with words typed on it, the other smaller and thicker. Grasping the corner with his first two fingers he turned it over. A photograph. Lindsey.

The first thing he noticed was her eyes. Dull and tinged with fear, they were not the eyes he was used to seeing. Lindsey's eyes were bright and full of energy. He had seen them shine with humor, narrow in anger, filled with tears, glowing with happiness, but never empty of emotion. The expression frightened him, and he had to force himself to look at the rest of the picture.

She was wearing the same outfit. The purple shirt was torn, held up by only one of the original straps. Her hair was matted and tangled, her face pale with smudges of makeup under her eyes. There was no way to tell what kind of room she was being held in, just Lindsey sitting in front of a white wall, holding a copy of today's newspaper. It was like a scene from a bad

movie, and Grissom was tempted to pinch himself to make sure it wasn't a dream.

"Grissom?" He was so intent on the picture that Sara had to call him three times before he turned his head in her direction. She held her gloved hand out, and he reluctantly handed her the picture.

"Shit." It only took her a moment to come to the same conclusion that Grissom had. There were no visual clues to Lindsey's location to be gained from the photo. "What does the letter say?"

"What?" Grissom spoke as if in a daze, his attention still held by the picture.

"The letter, Griss." She made a move to pick it up, but he snapped out of his fog and picked it up first. The first thing he saw, before focusing on the words, were the strands of hair taped to the bottom. Reaching for a pair of tweezers he removed the tape, the hair coming up at the same time.

"Greg." His voice was soft, his hand motion slight, but Greg understood immediately and entered the room. "Take these to DNA, get a comparison."

"Right away." Greg didn't ask any questions, simply retrieved the hairs and left the room once more. He didn't make any of his usual jokes, but walked with haste into the DNA lab. As much as he wanted out of the lab and into the field, he was glad today that he was here. If anyone could find DNA from a sample, it was him. He was not cocky, but sure of his competence.

xxx

"This is a good sign, right?" Hailey whispered to her uncle, her eyes never leaving the man in front of her holding a single sheet of paper. "I mean, if they want ransom, that means Lindsey is okay. They'll give her back, right?"

Brass closed his eyes briefly, remembering a woman's body found in a well, a little boy by the side of the road. Botched ransoms happened too often, but he couldn't tell Hailey that. Nor could he tell her of the times that the ransom went off smoothly, but the kidnapper decided to get ride of the victim anyway. Instead he nodded, and gave her a noncommittal "I hope so."

Catherine, who had been hovering in the doorway, could restrain herself no longer. "What does it say, Gil? What are they asking for?" She might have stormed into the room and snatched the letter out of his hand, evidence or no evidence, if not for Warrick's hand on her shoulder.

Grissom opened his mouth to answer, and then closed it again. Sara looked him in the eyes and silently offered to help him carry the burden. He blinked once and it was enough for her to rest her hand on his forearm and slip the paper out of his hand. Turning slightly, Sara met Catherine's expectant stare.

"They're asking for five million dollars in unmarked bill to be dropped off tomorrow at midnight. It's to be dropped off in the desert, in the shelter Tony Braun stored his gold in." As she said this last bit, Sara's gaze shifted from Catherine to Sam Braun. From the way he got suddenly paler, Sara was certain he didn't know anything about the ransom. She hadn't thought so, but now she was sure.

"I'll have it ready by noon," Sam spoke, looking at Grissom but reaching his hand out to Catherine.

"Thank you," Catherine voiced, her head reeling. Five million dollars. That's all Lindsey was to these bastards.

"Catherine," Grissom cleared his throat. "You know as well as I do that paying a ransom doesn't..."

"I don't want to hear it. They want money, they'll get money. Statistics be damned."

Grissom nodded, knowing any further argument would be pointless. Catherine was stubborn under normal circumstances, and this was anything but.

"I'm going to get this analyzed." He picked up the letter and the picture at the same time, hoping Catherine hadn't noticed the second piece of evidence. She didn't need to see her daughter like that.

"I'll come with you," Sara offered. She remained silent as they walked down the hall, stopping first at questioned documents, and then the A/V lab. It wasn't until they stepped into the break room for coffee that she spoke.

"How are you doing?"

"Fine." He poured himself some coffee, draining half the cup before he realized that it had scalded his tongue. Sara gave him a stare that was eerily similar to his own familiar 'yeah right' looks.

"When's the last time you slept?" she questioned.

"When's the last time you did?" he shot back, avoiding giving her the answer she already had.

"You're talking to me, the woman who doesn't sleep, remember? Why don't you go lay down for a little bit? I'll come get you as soon as Archie or Ronnie have any results."

Grissom started to shake his head, but the motioned triggered a wave of pain and he realized that he was on the verge of a migraine.

"The minute we know anything," Grissom gave in, "You come get me."

"I promise." Sara pulled the mug out of Grissom's hand and watched as he walked down the hall to his office. Pouring the remains down the drain, she left the room to go check on the evidence.

To be continued...


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

"I'm not leaving."

"Hailey..." Brass rubbed his forehead in frustration. It had been ten minutes since he had motioned a uniformed cop over and asked him to give Hailey a ride home, and ten minutes of Hailey's stubborn refusal.

"I want to stay here. I'm scared to be at home alone." She felt guilty the moment she said it, because it wasn't true. But she knew her uncle well, and knew there were few things that she could say that would allow him to let her stay at the lab instead of returning to his house. So she used her knowledge to get him to let her stay. It had been hours since the ransom had arrived, and in the rush of study and preparation Hailey had gone unnoticed until now. She had been floating around the lab, doing her best to stay out of every ones way while peeking into rooms to glean as much information as she could. Outside the DNA lab she overheard the news that the hair pulled off the letter was a match to Lindsey. Pacing the halls in front of finger printing she was discouraged to hear that no usable prints had been found, not so much as a partial. It was when she was spying on Archie in the A/V lab that her uncle had noticed her, and decided to try and send her home.

"I'll stay out of everyone's way, I promise." Hailey widened her eyes and gave her uncle her very best 'puppy dog' expression. "Please, Uncle Jimmy?" Brass folded, either believing Hailey's reticence to be alone or not willing to spend anymore time arguing. Partially, he also liked having her where he could keep an eye on her. The memory of Hailey, sitting on a hospital bed and looking completely beaten, was too fresh in his mind.

"Alright, kid, you win. You can stay here. Out of everyone's way, capiche? Else I'll have to lock you in my office." He smiled at her, a grin that let her know he was teasing.

"Yes, sir," she teased back. It was a light hearted moment, much needed in the midst to the stressful day. After a brief hug they parted, Brass to find Grissom, and Hailey for another round of lingering outside open doorways, seeking out information that no one would think to give the fourteen year old.

II

Around two in the morning Hailey crashed on the couch in the break room. She was awoken after a couple of hours by a pair of voices, one on the verge of tears and the other comforting.

"It's been more then forty eight hours, Warrick. You know how the odds change. The statistics..."

"Lindsey isn't a statistic, Cath. And we aren't just any group of police working a kidnapping case. Odds be damned, remember? We have the best people in the country working this, and we _will_ bring Lindsey home."

Peeking over the back of the couch, Hailey watched as Warrick pulled Catherine into an embrace. She was debating whether or not to alert them to her presence when she leaned backwards and hit the sore part of her scalp on the arm of the couch.

"Oww!" She sharply inhaled, and the other two occupants of the room turned to the sound. Quickly, Hailey brought her hands up to her eyes and rubbed them, hoping that Catherine and Warrick would believe that she had only just woken up.

"Hailey, what are you doing here?" Warrick dropped the arms that held Catherine to him as he asked the question.

"I fell asleep," she stated the obvious, knowing that it wasn't really the answer he was looking for.

"Not here in the break room. Here at the lab. You should be..." A shrill beeping noise ended his sentence prematurely. Glancing at the pager clipped onto his belt, he muttered "Grissom."

"I'll be back in a few," he said as he squeezed Catherine's hand on his way out of the room.

"He's right, you know. Home would be better right now." Catherine pulled one of the chairs away from the table and fell onto it.

"Home's too quiet. And here, even if I can't do anything, at least when something happens I'll know."

It was an argument Catherine couldn't argue with. She was here for the same reason. It wasn't as if she could look at any evidence, let alone touch or analyze it. Everything that she did everyday to help strangers to find closure had been taken away. Reaching out, she took one of Hailey's hands in her own. They sat there in silence for long minutes, a vigil of hope and helplessness.

"You don't really think that Lindsey's chances are getting worse, do you?" When the silence grew too heavy, Hailey broke it with her fears.

"I don't know," Catherine answered honestly, closing her eyes and rubbing the bridge of her nose. "I don't know."

"She's one of the strongest people I know, Lindsey." Hailey wasn't sure if she was trying to reassure Catherine or herself. "She told me, the first time we met, she didn't take crap from anyone. That was what her mom taught her. So I think she is going to be okay."

"I hope so, honey. God, I hope your right." Catherine left her chair and joined Hailey on the couch. She pulled the girl towards herself, wrapping her in a hug. For just a moment, it was like she was holding her daughter.

The sound of a throat clearing caught the attention of both of them. Warrick had returned. Hailey was the first to pull away from the comforting gesture. Rising from the couch she nodded her head to the door.

"I'm going to, um... yeah." Without thinking of a reason, she left the room. Behind her, she heard the melodic murmuring of Warrick's voice.

II

"I don't care what you have to do. Close down every table and take the money from them if you have to. I need the cash by 10 am. That means you now have six hours." Without waiting for whoever was on the other end of the phone to reply, Sam snapped the cell shut.

"You'll be able to get the money, right?" Hailey was worried, and the anxiety gave her the fortitude to approach the man who, to be honest, scared her a little. Sam Braun had a way of carrying himself that shouted 'power,' and Hailey didn't want to imagine what happened to people who crossed him. The few details that Lindsey had shared about her grandfather were enough. "I mean, whoever that was on the phone won't..."

"They won't mess anything up. I'll have the money, and before I asked for it." Sam lowered his voice, speaking in the tone he usually reserved for Lindsey or Catherine or his favorite mare. It didn't take training as a CSI to figure out the girl before him with tomato red hair and too dark makeup must be a friend of Lindsey's.

"I wasn't spying or anything. I just came down the hall and heard the end of your conversation." Now that his full attention was focused on her, Hailey was even more nervous.

"Don't apologize." Sam waved his hand in dismissal. "Don't ever apologize, unless doing so is necessary to get you something you want. It takes away your power and gives it to someone else."

"Um, okay." She attempted to skirt pass Sam, hoping to find a new place to disappear to, but he stopped her.

"You're the one that was with her." It wasn't difficult to make the connection, and if he hadn't been so preoccupied he would have figured it out sooner.

"Catherine said she was with a friend. It was you, wasn't it?"

Hailey couldn't look at him, just nodded her head. "Yeah."

"Wasn't anything you could have done to stop it. You're a kid."

"I'm not a..."

"You're a kid," he continued. "They were grown men, they were armed, and nothing was going to get in their way. It wasn't your fault." He spoke in a voice that didn't allow room for arguments, and Hailey didn't give him one. She even believed him, a little.

Sam's phone rang. Before he reached in his pocket to answer it, he offered Hailey a smile. It softened the edges of his face, and made him look less like a hardened business man and more like grandfather. He reminded Hailey of her uncle, a little.

"Braun," he snapped at whoever was on the other end of the call. Hailey left him to his conversation.

II

"Hail-bop, just the person I was looking for. Wanna go catch a bite with me?" Greg found her as she was wondering the halls, feeling more then a little restless.

"Love to. Just let me find Uncle Jimmy."

"Been there, done that, got his approval." Brass had only said yes after Greg had promised to turn the ringer on his cell phone as loud as it would go, take his gun, and only venture as far as the diner across the street, but Hailey didn't need to know that.

"Let's roll, then."

"You sound way to much like your uncle when you say that," Greg groaned.

"In that case, I'm ordering a steak, rare, with all the sides." Hailey grinned. An hour with Greg was exactly what she needed.

II

He didn't knock, just walked through the open office door. "The money will be here in two hours. It's being delivered in an armored car."

"I'll let Brass know. We'll have the truck met with a police guard." Grissom returned his attention to the folder in front of him, hoping Sam would take the hint. He didn't.

"You know who it is, don't you?"

"I can't discuss an ongoing investigation with civilians."

"I'll find Catherine and ask her, if you prefer, but I will get my answers."

Grissom sighed, knowing Sam was telling the truth. Catherine had enough to deal with, and for her he would relent.

"We think the person behind the kidnapping is Brian Jenkins. When we pulled up his bank records, we found two large withdrawals, each for twenty thousand dollars. The first was made a week and a half ago, the second one the day Lindsey was kidnapped. There is no history of similar withdrawals."

"Son of a bitch. I will kill him." Sam looked as if he was about to leave the office, and the lab. His lawyer, a man who had been on his payroll for a dozen years, had betrayed him.

"No, you won't." Grissom was standing now too. His voice was hard and biting. "You will stay here, and stay out of it. We are doing everything we can to get Lindsey back. She is first priority. Not you, not and vendetta you might have. If you mess this up in any way, I will make sure that Catherine knows."

Sam was seething, but at least he seemed to understand what Grissom was telling him.

"Grissom, do you..." Sara stood in the doorway of the office, whatever she had been about to say stopped by the noticeable tension. "Never mind, I'll come back later."

"Stay," Sam invited, the look in his eye at odds with the smile that suddenly appeared on his face. "I was just leaving."

"Sam." Grissom uttered the single word, and Sam took it as the reminder it was meant to be.

"I'll play by your rules." Both men knew there was a silent for now. If the worst happened, all rules would be null and void.

Sara waited until Sam was out of sight before breaking the silence that hung in the room.

"You don't like him." When Grissom's only response was an arched brow, Sara continued. "I know you don't like him in a 'he's a murder who should be behind bars' kind of way, but it's more then that. You really don't like him. Do you think he had something to do with..."

"No." Grissom shook his head. "If there is one thing I admire about the man, it's the fierce loyalty he has to the people he loves. He would never do something like this to Catherine or Lindsey."

You have the same kind of loyalty, Sara wanted to tell him. Instead, she focused on the practical.

"I just came in to let you know that we're ordering pizza, and to find out what topping you want on yours."

"Whatever you order is fine."

"So pineapple, olives, and mushrooms?" she teased.

"That's fine." It took him a minute before her words sunk in. "What?"

"I thought so. You'll have some of Nick and Warrick's meat lovers' pizza." As she walked away, she heard him mutter something about fruit not belonging on pizza. She smiled; glad she could distract him from his heavy thoughts, if only for a minute. Rubbing her temple, she headed to the break room for caffine and aspirin.

To be continued...


End file.
